[VERSE 1: Prode'je]

The C-a-r-t-e-l's been here for ages

And ain't not one of them trick-ass radio stations played us

But that didn't fade us because we still gettin it on

I put the heat up under my seat and I'm gone

Bumpin the tape as I let the sun hit my Daytons

Fuck your ratings cause this gangsta shit make ends

I begins hittin them corners on the block

Servin the B.G.'s the double up on the rock

I shake the spot because my face comes with fame

And it's a shame the way them rats scream my name

And I'm fashionable, I'm hittin corners international

14 [?]

I'm on my phone to see if Rhime Son's at home

(I'm in the back polishin my chrome)

I be there in a minute so we can hit the zones

To let the U.S.C. know it's still on, it's on



[CHORUS: L.V.]

Gees still on the move

Westside and Eastside finna act a fool

You know it's all to the gees

Hittin switches with the S.C.C.

Radio don't give us props

It don't stop till the gangsta drop

So we gotta do it for the streets

And all the gees bumpin gangsta beats



[VERSE 2: Havikk the Rhime Son]

85 Cutlass on the creep from block to block on [?] deep dish

Killin the radio, I'm turnin it off, I'm bumpin that Bushwick

I gets my skate on, I'm flossin through the neighborhood

It's Mr. Rhime Son to the good

[ ] as I swerve to the curb in the seat

Gone off that herb and the word is I'm a gee

As we [?] another block I lets the trunk vibrate

18's droppin them bombs like Kuwait

I put it on the Richter as the 9.2, puttin the heater in my lap

Craps - yo, what they hittin fo'? Snap

Daps is what I give to Big Prod

Cartel Gang is finna hoo-bang when we ride

Check the rear-view cause you know bustas, them muthafuckas

Are sneaky as hell might as well

Dip with the clip tucked, snug for the funk

B-l-u-n-t, let the system thump

And it's like that



[CHORUS]



[VERSE 3: Havikk]

How many of you busters...

Are thinkin about servin us? Proceed with caution

Pin him in a turnin lane before he bend Slauson

The 85 Cutlass cuffed on d's, at ease...

Up off my nut sacks, like I said ain't no get back

Trump tight as we slide on

In a Cut and Young Prod, time to get your ride on

(Locsters) Cartel ridin Rolls in the '96, unfadable

Cause we don't need no damn radio

[Prode'je]

Prod and Rhime Son on triple gold d's

Checkin out the frequencies

In a hour they ain't played the S.C.C.

But I'm a gee regardless how many marks gon' ride

On the S.C.G.'s from the Evil Side, Big Prod

(And I, Mr. Rhime Son comin with the nine gun)

In the cut slugs get bucked, so what the fuck

Is really goin down, it ain't no changing faces

The man in the mirror is a gangster

Fo' life



[CHORUS]