Krush Groove

We on our third song, we on our third song, hey

You understand it, I'm official with mine

I'm double clutchin' on the fo' wheel

Pushin' quarters like niggaz doin' dope deals

Fo' cut fifty like a verse and a half

I cut the brick and now we countin' the math

We 'bout that birdplay

My crew's committed, you dudes gon' get it

Have a seat, you through when I'm finished

My troopers is fitted

Got 'em posted out in Brooklyn

Hollis Queens to the bridge

We in the studio, the Figgaro done did it again

We got factors out in the ditch where they smackin' a bitch

I got homies out in the Bronx where they bustin' at cops

It ain't no game with the underground

Came from the underground

Pushin' a hundred thousand, we out the trunk, never browsin'

JT, another boss from the Bay

And rest in peace to my boy, Mac Dre, what'chu say nigga?

JT, another boss from the Bay

And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, motherfucker

Hey, yo, it seem to me like e'rybody got they own truth

Believe me I'm in them sheets like phone booths

I play the game I was born to score

But I'm a lil' too cute for them corner stores

A little too, known to stand on the block

And a lil' too eager to sit in the spot

Mami, I'm from the Eastside, yup yes that side

Heads fly if I open ya chest that wide

Gimme a bad vibe, end up on your backside

Or you can get your back and side splatted in back of your ride

And I can make it happen, if I don't make it rappin'

This lump of Satan, I'm packin' thrash 'em with a major passion

I slash your face and fracture you flashin' in the latest fashion

And have you dashin' from Manhattan all the way to Aspen

Your shit is whack, heard your tape and had to take an aspirin

Step your game up

Listen, before I get up in the mornin' I ask the Lord for strength

Tryinna get my niggaz out the hood, you know how the forces get

It's like the devil got a hold of my neck

And I'm gettin' this change runnin' 'round reppin' my set

Momma used to look at me funny, she could tell her baby boy changed

Must be out there gettin' some money

But it's a price for everything, you know how the game go

For them birds niggaz'll cock back the calico

Now you introduced to the beef, what'chu gon' do now?

Bitch up, skid in your crib, or pull them tools out?

A lot of niggaz is real, a lot of niggaz is fake

A lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake hands with Jake

Fuck what'chu heard, I startled your brain

I hit the spot like a hella laze in ballers and jeans

On some eighty-eight shit, more raw than Kane

It's not my fault she looked at me, you better talk to your dame

That's just part of the game and you got served

Who got nerve 'cause Lethal hard like Tupac words

And why y'all chucks always actin' like tough guys

You must be trippin' or you slippin' on mudslides

And in the hood you see it's different from one time

What's your bloodline, play the strip to the sunshine

And I don't even know why I'm wastin' my breath

I oughta be like Machiavelli and be fakin' my death

I keep that good shit it's tastin' so fresh

And all you sloppy Joe niggaz yo y'all makin' a mess

We on the radio now, so put your tapes in the deck

And spittin' a hundred bars straight without breakin' a sweat