作词 : Green, Reed, Stevens (feat. E-40) (Intro: Spice 1) What's wrong *****? What's wrong huh? You scared *****? You scared? What, you can't talk with a **********in' gun in your mouth *****? I'm gonna give you a three count I'ma blow your **********in' brains out One, what you think about, what you thinkin'? I'm proud, two (kinda slick ************) (*Gun blast*) Nineteen **********in' nine-fo' comin' at cha Gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gangsta Spice **********in' 1 (Spice 1) I eat they ass up like a Swason with the Thompson fo'-fever, leave a - **********in' crime 'fore he take his last breather So come along take a trip to the dirt track Where the young ****** be takin' your car and be peelin' your cap back That's why it's A to the **********in' yay keeps a fat gat for the funk in the East Bay mainly off gat, I'm goin' brain dead inside Talkin' to my homies 'Scratchy' tellin' me he wanna ride on the ***** that peeled his cap so now I'm on the streets With the dead ************ in the passenger seat And it's fo' to the **********in' five G-a-gat that ass leave 'em dead in the ives Red Rum on the late night, catch my case right at the crack hut ****** better back up, while I fix my sack up Pistol whip, ****, kick that ass quick Quick to rip ****, cause I'm a Coca Cola Classic O.G. and D-Boyz got love for me, D-Boyz got love for me (*Interlude*) (E-40) Da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha Da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha (Spice 1) I'ma chuck a dead body on your **********in' lawn like jump like Red gone, ***** I'll be ready the funk is on So call up the Paramedics and tell 'em that you're dyin' ***** I roll strapped with no love upon my ****in' trigger I lets my hair platt, and took his mail stack Now he's a stiff black, cause I was at that I'm dumpin' these ****** in ditches back to back Hangin' they ass from telephone posts to leavin' 'em makin' 'em bleed without no money Gun me, hoe ****** wanna do that, do that But I go out and get a new gat, new gat and let 'em have it *****, so D-Boyz got love for me (E-40) I got love for D-Boyz, cause D-Boyz got love for me I got love for D-Boyz, cause D-Boyz got love for me ***** got outta line I had to chop him Reached into my draws and pulled out my strap (pull out your strap) ************ got outta place I had to chop him Reached into my fudadalooms and pulled out my strap (pull out your strap) ***** got outta place, youse got to pop him Reach up in your draws and pull out your strap (pull out your strap) Rookie get outta line you better ice him Reach into your d-dun-dun-duns and pull out your strap (pull out your strap) Just call me Chef Boyardee-Boy, soda for bakin' Cupcakes and cookies, rappies I'm makin' huh Tall cash, can't let eat up my grass Don't make me have to come back and split your parents house in half with my 6RP226-Diana Ross cousin Nina - Mr. Meaner, body bleeder Heartless, empty the cartridge roll Smartless, get out and die so cold Hollow point hot ones dipped in garlic I lives up the bar like an Alcoholic ****** think that I be bluffin' when I tell 'em I'm a good shot But I'm also into some other things like ice picks and piano strings So *****, I'm tryin' to get nickerage Open up shop, cotton candy and liquorice, uh (Outro: Spice 1 & E-40) Shoot 'em up now Blaow! Spiggidy one whippin' up on dat ass for nine-four Da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha Shoot 'em up now, byd-a-bye-bye Blaow! (Spiggity sp, sp, spiggity sp, sp, spit ***** hahahahaha) They call me Spiggity one, Spiggity one Me bust a cap up in your ass with big black gun, byd-a-bye-bye Chill man, me roll down the block with my ***** Byd-a-bye-bye, Spiggidy one whippin' up on dat ass Chill man, livin' in the city is a **********in' task (What's a 7-0-7 on er... your trunk *****?) 5-10 (4-1-5's?), yeah (That's four-fifteens if y'all *****es didn't know) Yeah *****, stupid ass hoes (Da-tha-tha, sing it with me, da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha, ah yeah) (*Whistling*)
作词 : Green, Reed, Stevens (feat. E-40) (Intro: Spice 1) What's wrong *****? What's wrong huh? You scared *****? You scared? What, you can't talk with a **********in' gun in your mouth *****? I'm gonna give you a three count I'ma blow your **********in' brains out One, what you think about, what you thinkin'? I'm proud, two (kinda slick ************) (*Gun blast*) Nineteen **********in' nine-fo' comin' at cha Gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi-gangsta Spice **********in' 1 (Spice 1) I eat they ass up like a Swason with the Thompson fo'-fever, leave a - **********in' crime 'fore he take his last breather So come along take a trip to the dirt track Where the young ****** be takin' your car and be peelin' your cap back That's why it's A to the **********in' yay keeps a fat gat for the funk in the East Bay mainly off gat, I'm goin' brain dead inside Talkin' to my homies 'Scratchy' tellin' me he wanna ride on the ***** that peeled his cap so now I'm on the streets With the dead ************ in the passenger seat And it's fo' to the **********in' five G-a-gat that ass leave 'em dead in the ives Red Rum on the late night, catch my case right at the crack hut ****** better back up, while I fix my sack up Pistol whip, ****, kick that ass quick Quick to rip ****, cause I'm a Coca Cola Classic O.G. and D-Boyz got love for me, D-Boyz got love for me (*Interlude*) (E-40) Da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha Da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha (Spice 1) I'ma chuck a dead body on your **********in' lawn like jump like Red gone, ***** I'll be ready the funk is on So call up the Paramedics and tell 'em that you're dyin' ***** I roll strapped with no love upon my ****in' trigger I lets my hair platt, and took his mail stack Now he's a stiff black, cause I was at that I'm dumpin' these ****** in ditches back to back Hangin' they ass from telephone posts to leavin' 'em makin' 'em bleed without no money Gun me, hoe ****** wanna do that, do that But I go out and get a new gat, new gat and let 'em have it *****, so D-Boyz got love for me (E-40) I got love for D-Boyz, cause D-Boyz got love for me I got love for D-Boyz, cause D-Boyz got love for me ***** got outta line I had to chop him Reached into my draws and pulled out my strap (pull out your strap) ************ got outta place I had to chop him Reached into my fudadalooms and pulled out my strap (pull out your strap) ***** got outta place, youse got to pop him Reach up in your draws and pull out your strap (pull out your strap) Rookie get outta line you better ice him Reach into your d-dun-dun-duns and pull out your strap (pull out your strap) Just call me Chef Boyardee-Boy, soda for bakin' Cupcakes and cookies, rappies I'm makin' huh Tall cash, can't let eat up my grass Don't make me have to come back and split your parents house in half with my 6RP226-Diana Ross cousin Nina - Mr. Meaner, body bleeder Heartless, empty the cartridge roll Smartless, get out and die so cold Hollow point hot ones dipped in garlic I lives up the bar like an Alcoholic ****** think that I be bluffin' when I tell 'em I'm a good shot But I'm also into some other things like ice picks and piano strings So *****, I'm tryin' to get nickerage Open up shop, cotton candy and liquorice, uh (Outro: Spice 1 & E-40) Shoot 'em up now Blaow! Spiggidy one whippin' up on dat ass for nine-four Da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha Shoot 'em up now, byd-a-bye-bye Blaow! (Spiggity sp, sp, spiggity sp, sp, spit ***** hahahahaha) They call me Spiggity one, Spiggity one Me bust a cap up in your ass with big black gun, byd-a-bye-bye Chill man, me roll down the block with my ***** Byd-a-bye-bye, Spiggidy one whippin' up on dat ass Chill man, livin' in the city is a **********in' task (What's a 7-0-7 on er... your trunk *****?) 5-10 (4-1-5's?), yeah (That's four-fifteens if y'all *****es didn't know) Yeah *****, stupid ass hoes (Da-tha-tha, sing it with me, da-tha-tha-da-tha-tha, ah yeah) (*Whistling*)
