Lyrics

[Chorus] Yeah You gotta check your bitch, mister Check that biatch Before she fuck around and do some drastic shit And have yo' ass in that jailhouse stressed out Cuz that bitch done ran her muthafuckin' mouth [Verse 1] Peep, my Smith & Wesson was Loc and what not After I blasted the fool that had fight with my dog The Ace told me Sicx, was getting in that ass But I still shot that fool in his fuckin' face Now that Dre slapped a witness in sight except for When my hoe was in the vehicle Seen the whole scenario And told me "Baby, you are so crazy Nigga, you hella down" And I was eating it up like 4 pounds With round rounds and hot water corn bread Sicx said "X-Loc, you better smoke that biatch" I didn't listen cuz the pussy was diss [?] on here to this black ass dick I never did heard the hoe say no mo' and mentioned that incident So I was swearing up and down Ain't putting it all the shit I had me a gangsta bitch Six days later, I was at the house watching a TV show America's Most Wanted, I seen my face and I said "Oh no" Hopped up quick got to packing my shit, told the hoe "Let's go" That's when I heard Sacramento Police say "Open the goddamn door" I looked out the window and saw Hella sheriffs, white cars and police black ones That punk muthafucka ain't telling me shit Was leading the whole damn pack of 'em Ain't no need for me to play the role like I'm Superman When they kicked in the door I was already on the floor saying "Please, don't shoot me, man" He walked in, and put his boot in the back of my neck My name ain't Rodney King But it still seems a nigga can't get no respect Asked me my name and I said "No Mouth, you sorry ass biatch Which means I ain't about to tell your punk ass shit" His face turned hella red, he drive me out to his squad car And went, talked to my girl and I was praying She wasn't saying what I thought she was saying Came back and told me "Mr. Brown, you young sorry ass bitch Your black ass under arrest, a little bit of that and a little bit of this" And I'm thinking if he knows my name, my girl must've told him Which means that my gangsta bitch was a pranksta 'Cause the bitch sold out for them brokers, homie [Chorus] You gotta check yo' bitch Check that bitch Quick before she fuck around and do some drastic shit And have your ass in that jailhouse stressed out Cuz that bitch done ran her muthafuckin' mouth 187 in the hood can't say shit One Time thinking it was premeditated And now I'm in the muthafuckin' county jail Ain't that a bitch, that bitch You's a hoe, you nothing but a hoe We got jacked by them cops and you told them everything you knew You's a hoe, you know you's a hoe I wish a muthafucka had to let me know [Verse 2] Now they got me in the county Hooked on 187 which is murda And about, four other charges and penal codes a nigga ain't never heard of Like 12022.5 Which means I used the automatic To bust a cap and made that foo's muthafuckin' face Crack with a 186.2, that means it was gang related Off to a P1878 which means my shit was premeditated Told me I was going to fight with the rest of the 'Rips Send me to pop 300 and sell 24's as that 2 double 319% 2 days later, I went to a lament at Apartment 33 Judge said if I can't afford a lawyer, he'll be happy to appoint my brodie Thinking of Loco don't know the deal With them colored pretenders All they do is pretend to defend and send your ass running up that river So I got more lawyers to help save me all that ol' shit He said but that bitch is a witness So ain't no actually getting out of this predicament They got to gather evidence they can use to convict me But they got that bitch to jump my other [?] the fuck they need to get me The yay told the hoe get shit acquitted, you should let him hit it and she did it But although she had to snitch on me and evidently the bitch was with it Shit, getting crazy down on my ends Gang gon' have me clutchin' gun charges, it was 35 to life in one of them pens All my years done left out and all my little hoes done left me Lost about thirty pounds, I'm looking frail while I used to be hefty All this time this road 'bout to make change, proper sized chest But all that's gone to the left, young nigga stuck on stress Done thought about 24 pounds and 29 ways a Loc can kill himself Knowin' I ain't gon' do it but it's making time go by pretty sweet, yeah Two weeks later and now my ground just gonna be starting, Loc What do you know? Witness came up missing on the milk carton Nigga, they can't touch me cuz I've been locked up I know who did it, the G-Blocc homies but I won't admit it I had that Kool-Aid Splash, when they said I was acquitted Even though all this shit could have been avoided If I had to just check my bitch [Chorus] Go check your bitch Check that bitch quick before she fuck around and do some drastic shit And have you in that jailhouse stressed out Cuz that bitch done ran her muthafucking mouth 187 in the hood can't say shit One Time thinking it was premeditated And now I'm in the muthafucking county jail Ain't that a bitch That bitch That bitch Yeah