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Текст песни South Central Cartel - Family Thang

South Central Cartel - Family Thang слова песни

(Intro)NiggaWho a real rider is?My family fool!That`s rightPuts it down on any hood or cliqueThat`s real trick(Verse 1)It`s the young mackola, slangin crack to stackolaThe chip motorola holds the .44 to blow yaDohja smoke ignites the fire like lightersThe drop 64`s catch the hoes on sightaLet`s take a trip to where the homies puts it downThey get (?) and say I never come aroundBut I`m in traffic, tryna make a proper come upLivin in this hell hole makes me wanna blow my dome upMy baby mama is more righteous than they comeThe hood`s on my back, the child support don`t help me noneSo now I`m on a mission, niggas in my rear viewDamn it`s the homie, what the fuck them niggas up toI bust a U. and still the homies on my backsideI grab the .44 hit the petrol in a G-O metroAnd damn, I still got payments on this muthafuckaI lost all the hub caps and the homies I don`t trust `em(Chorus)Well Young Prod if these niggas start trippinAnd Twin I got your back too if it`s mo` than twoAnd if it`s mo` than three they gotta fuck with meAnd that`s how it`s gon swing with this family thang(Verse 2)Y`all niggas kill me, feel me down when you up aroundClown me, down me when your ass not up around meNow tell me G who`s the fuckin playa hataMad `cause I put my family up on some paperMy homie Joe gave me the `fo on your bitch-assHey troop I got your back loc, so won`t you put the smashDown, clowns like you I call hatersMad `cause you jock us but still can`t fade usIt`s young trip on a creep as I tips down, manThey got nothin to lose but 50 G`s to gainIf I maintain a low profile like a Pirelli`Cause niggas be schemin like evil side and wicked dreaminNight after night be havin a nigga straight plottinLike "Oliver Stone" out to get a grip of his ownAnd it`s on and ain`t no fakin niggas out for the takinBut if they come at me wrong Rata-tat-tat, ain`t no get bacc(Chorus)(Verse 3)Now from the gate I gots to skate block to block when I`m swervinPuffin up on that herb and still down for curb servinCutlass on deck, niggas trip, I`m a winnerKhakis and Chuck T`s, gold D`s as I bend theNigga`s block, batteries hot, lockin a 40Gold Rhimeson packin heat and it`s onNiggas playa hatin `cause I stack the chip, dippin in a C-lowPuttin my bang down with my kinfolksI see them half-ass hoes so damn down I used to figureBut now I`m hearin shit, it makes me wanna pull a triggerNigga, I put you down when you had nathinNigga, but now I`m hearin `bout your playa hatinRollin in my low-low `64 loc, with my kinfolksFake-ass locs they get smoked tho`We still deep, we be tight like Vice GripsCollectin chips, dumpin clips on niggas who set trip(Chorus)(Outro)BiAtchWestside and EastsideTakin your ass on a gangsta rideSo peep this shit out niggaIt`s the "in-a-cut-gang", baby, babyAnd it`s the South Central Cartel, babyAnd it`s the Young Prod thang, baby, babyAnd all them niggas can`t fade meI`m crazyYeah, we be puttin it down for the 199-muthafuckin-6You know what I`m sayin?

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