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Текст песни South Central Cartel - Funk U Up

South Central Cartel - Funk U Up слова песни

(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)(Get down)(Wessyde)[ VERSE 1: Havikk the Rhime Son ]I`m posted up in a Cutlass, hoo-bangin in a bucketHennessy got a nigga mind shifted, so fuck itTold you muthafuckas we was back droppin amityRiders on deck, Chuck T`s my calamityServin any niggas tryin to dip on them whips100 spokes gold thangs so I bangs with the clipOut of the cut like a ( ? ) I slides like a Klingon( ? ) hit the switch and leave that ass froze like freonIt`s them mad-ass Cartel gangstersThrowin bolos so fuck what Bo knows cause I`ma bank yaPut your ass on some crutchesStackin ends like the DutchesCounterreact for the attack like Marcus Allen rushesIt`s that Westside rider Rhime Son, like thatIn a `burban still swervin sippin on a cognacWith my tag team, Prode`je, nigga, you couldn`t fuck with the realestWe get in that ass like Bruce WillisBitch(Funk you right on upwe gonna funk you right on up)Westside(Funk you right on upwe gonna funk you right on up)Eastside rider(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Yeah(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Nigga(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Peep game(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Well, sit your punk-ass down(..down)Eastside rider[ VERSE 2: Prode`je ]Predatory like the Terminator, mo` game than SegaHow many muthafuckas wanna step to this omegaSupreme, the .44 cocked for the creamI fiend for the green so the gee`s on the sceneMy diamond`s in the back but your diamond`s in my pocketI knock your jaws loose flyin things like a rocketYou couldn`t stop it cause 6-4`s, yeah, we drops itComin for your ( ? ) slingin muthafuckin toxicNiggas never loc unless you worry S.C.Cause many muthafuckas I can bury O.G.But when you close your eyes it`s the gees comin atchaKhakis, Chuck T`s, Beefy-Tee`s, I`ma gatchaSteady dippin, things whippin, am I crippinNiggas hate a player so the playa-hatas trippinWhen the Rhime Son ridin shotgun niggas see the bluesAnd we don`t give a fuck about yo crews(Funk you right on upwe gonna funk you right on up)Eastside rider(Funk you right on upwe gonna funk you right on up)Wessyde(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Haha(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Geah(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)1996(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Sit yo ass down(...down)Cartel riders[ VERSE 3: Rhime Son ]I`m dippin back to the hood ragged up too deepExtended clips, hollow tips, Murder Squad don`t sleepI`m terrorizin a terroist, fuck Hussein and his posseExpanded flows, hot .44`s, khaki saggin, fuck a NaziI`m mobbin block to block, chronic got a nigga on twistI gets deeper than the death, so muthafuck the _Abyss_It`s the S.C. O.G. (Who I be?) H-a-v96 in your shit, Rhime Son and Prode`je[ Prode`je ]Cause we be swingin 17, makin muthafuckas overComin through your hoods like a muthafuckin soldierGangsta rap is over, muthafuckas, how you figure?Cause bein anti-gee is like bein anti-niggaThey try to put to bed but the gee is never sleepinI`m down with TLC cause the nigga sho` creepinThe chronic flows, as it grows you`se a witnessSo sit the fuck down and let the gees handle business(Funk you right on upwe gonna funk you right on up)Westside(Funk you right on upwe gonna funk you right on up)Eastside rider(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Yeah(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Nigga(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Busters(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up)Sit your punk-ass down(..down)Nigga rightWestside and Eastside on a mission, nigga199-c-c, muthafuckasSouth Central Cartel beatin yo ass since `91And it don`t stopNever that, never that, nigga199... to infinityProde`je and Rhime Son, fool

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