Some L.A. Niggaz

Lyrics

[Intro: MC Ren] Yeah, nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker (West West, y'all) Yeah, L.A. niggas L.A. niggas rule the world, nigga Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what I'm sayin'? Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what I'm sayin'? But this shit come all the way back around here My nigga Dre, droppin' heat rocks on y'all bitch-ass You know what I'm sayin'? You gotta recognize L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga Recognize this – peep game [Verse 1: Time Bomb] Now in my younger days, I used to sport a rag Backpack full of cans, plus a four-four mag G'd up from the feet up Blue'd up from the shoe up, how I grew up Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'til we threw up ('Til we threw up) At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up You don't wanna blast, nigga, tuck yo' tool up But don't sleep, young niggas quick to shoot you Now there's another motherfucker with no future But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba Got 'em jumpin', Disciples to the Hoover [Verse 2: King T] I'm coming "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner Watch your manners; at last, another blast from the top notch From way back with the Pop Rocks, I pop lock wit' ya Picture this: Dr. Dre twisting wit' Tha Liks And Hittman bought a fix Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch Hear it tick, tick, tick, tick— *boom* Wait a minute, it's on; I tell it like a true mackadelic Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it From sundown to sun up, clown and run up The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what? [Chorus: Knoc-Turn'al & Kokane] We roll deep, smoke on weed, drink and pack heat Requirements for survival each day in L.A.! It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops Analyze why we act this way in L.A.! [Verse 3: Hittman & Xzibit] Gimme that mic, fool, it's a West Coast jack move They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do Cock me back Bust caps for my Macz Crew, at Fairfax We used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you Blast you for that set you claim (Where you from?) Mash on you for your Turkish chain, CK, BK Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit' a gang I helped niggas get jacked for they Dana Danes My pants hang below my waistline I look humble; wanna rumble? (Yeah, yeah) I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline Don't waste my time Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AKs and 9s One-times, sunshines and fine-ass bitches Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches [Verse 4: Xzibit] I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF' Where the brothers in the hood refused to go Hollywood Slugs for the fuck of it Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick If I catch you touching mine, you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor Better than yours, driving away, gettin' head from a whore It's AvireX-to-the-Z Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV, cassette, and CD It's all mine, the whole nine, the right time Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie What? So neither do I; I'm bad for your health Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself [Verse 5: Defari] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do' Glock 45 in my dresser drawer Let 'em come in — BAOW, he see the thunder roll Roll with niggas who buy fifths by the fo' And brews by the case Slap you in the face with the bass Dr. Dre laced Likwit kings with Sedans and gold rings Haters scope the style, but can't find no openings [Chorus: Knoc-Turn'al, Kokane] We roll deep, smoke on weed, drink and pack heat Requirements for survival each day in L.A.! It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops Analyze why we act this way in L.A.! [Outro] In L.A. – That's how we ride That's how we ride That's how we ride That's how we ride