Chorus: 

I got one mo switch I can hit 

I got one mo bullet in my clip 

I got one mo drink I can steal 

I got one mo sack I can twist 

Verse 1, Coolio: 

I wear a "S" on my chest 

I prefer my vest 

And if the chronic run out, loc, pass the stress 

Cause all I wanna do is just roll my things 

Turn up the alphine and let the woofers bang bang 

To the boogie say up jump the boogie 

He was tryin' to get a grip on my cookies 

I shook thee 

I coulda took him, but he wadn't even worth a bullet 

I had my finger on the trigger, but I couldn't pull it 

From defamation to desimation 

Every day is like summer vacation 

A nigga couldn't wait for somethin good to put in yo Kenwood 

Turn it up to twenty-one, and bop it in your hood 

I'm a eastside nigga (Nigga) 

Gotta have sprilla (Sprilla) 

Do or die, low down, real life killa (Killa) 

They comin' through the hold on tip toe 

You swear, so 

I gotta get your grip, hoe 



Chorus 



Verse 2, 40 Thevz (Lek Ratt, P.S.): 

Yes, yes, y'all (Yes y'all) 

40 Thevz in the house, with a fifth y'all (Fifth y'all) 

Better recognize a tennis shoe pimp, y'all (Pimp y'all) 

When I'm rollin' through your hood in my six, ohhhh, that be you 

When our four colors rock, front and ass out 

All the riders shake and smile when they see me hit the block 

Your sounds ain't beatin 

So your girls ain't freakin 

Watch your fly, got the whole post meetin 

Hit 'em in their eyes 

And go suicides 

Later, pump them on the ground just to show 'em what it's like 

To hit the mic for a licken 

Hell no, I ain't trippin 

Cause I kinda like pimpin 

Bein' freer than a pigeon 

Got your bitch down in positions 

All kinda ways 

40 Thevz pimpin these suckas till they graze 

So, come with these weak flows if you must 

But I got a hundred and twenty-one mo rounds I can bust 



Chorus 



Verse 3, Coolio: 

Put the pep in yo step and the glide in your stride 

Like Clyde 

Drexler, this is eastside 

Westa, recognize the routine 

Mo jackers and packers than the Super Bowl ring team 

So, why you tellin me to sell a key of yayo 

That's how you give a fellow need like Jayo 

We lay low 

All up in the cut 

If it's suicide then roll the bustas up 

And I'ma hit 'em up like uppercut 

Better shuffle yo feet like double dutch 

Now the party didn't start til I walked in 

And it probably wont end til I sip Hen 

But in the meantime 

And in between time 

Better tuck in your chin 

And learn to take your lumps and grin 

You know you can't wait cause I'ma stay on one 

One switch, one sack, one sip, but I ain't done 



Chorus, Repeat 4X