Testo Guerilla City - Guerilla Black
Testo della canzone Guerilla City (Guerilla Black), tratta dall'album Guerilla City
Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce myself
I'm Guerilla Black, and I would like to
Take y'all for a walk through my place called Guerilla City
A.K. Oh, Compton, the home of the legends
Know what I'm sayin, it's a cold place to be at baby
Uh, uh
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, Blood
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, cuz
When you walk through my city you can tell it's a cold vibe
Look in the eyes of the young niggas and old guys
You can see they hurt, the old cats on that esseside
The young niggas stay smokin' sherm
And ain't no promise I'll see tomorrow
It's just me, my pro club, khakis and my beat up Monte Carlo
With the bondo on the bullet holes
Bandanna on the steering wheel
Dashboard with photos of my old hoes
Smokin' Newport's up Compton Boulevard
I'm gettin' older and the younger niggas stompin' hard
I got a problem, momma screamin', "Get a job!"
My girl bitchin' and they killed my little nigga Rob
I got the lick on some blocks with my niggas up in Watts
And they told me that they fresh out the box
Shit, fuck the EDD, I got work nigga
It's called crack cocaine, it hit ya turnt nigga
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, Blood
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, cuz
The hood uniform done changed
Now the young throwbacks in academics and they still gangbang
And the Crips wear more red than the Bloods do
These are the enemies, all the hood loves you
And the smokers still pullin' on pipe dreams
Them youngins crush dro and the blunts that look light green
The night seems like it never will end
My nigga Buddha hold rag at 7th and Till then
Look in my eyes, it ain't all palm trees and doja smoke
A bunch of hood minded motherfuckers holdin' heat fo' sho'
Jump in they sweep, patrol the hood block for block now
Let the pigeons out the coop when the johnnies hound
Dice game and slap boxin' is a hood sport
Chili cheese fries, deuce deuce and a Newport
A hold a nigga down until he think his next thought
I thank God for bein' here, nigga, just to talk
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, Blood
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, cuz
I got the warrant up in Torrence
I don't give a fuck, I ain't payin' shit
Send me to the county, to the dorm where I can play it sick
Watchin' big screens, takin' showers on the phone
Sharpen up my toothbrush just in case holmes
And them other ese's start trippin'
Swing with my right, nigga, keep the left one stickin'
Took they tear gas and pepper spray this bitch down
I got three days rest until I'm back out
And when I touch down back in the CPT
I got a pack of cigs I ain't smoked in 'bout two weeks
Niggas blowin' up my cell phone, they know the whole scoop
Niggas break down your story better than you do
Shit, that's the hood for you, niggas know the info
I'm back in the Monte Carlo with a nympho
Headed to the studio, Wester Inn
And she got a whole lot of booty for my pleasures, man
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, Blood
When I'm in Guerilla City
And I got my killas with me
In khakis and chucks, gats on tuck
Don't mess around and get yo' ass sprayed up, cuz
Motherfucker don't wanna get caught on this side of town, nigga
It's real crazy over here, motherfucker, you know
Shit, we got some of everything crackin' off over here
We got prostitution, motherfucker got AR's
Niggas got motherfuckin' little mini-MAC's
We got all that shit, nigga
I got the thirstiest motherfuckers in the world, nigga
You could be a grown man
Get yo' ass whooped by a eleven year old nigga
I'm tellin' you, nigga, these niggas is about it, 'bout it, nigga
Huh, nigga, it's real, motherfucker
You bring your ass on this side, nigga, I'm tellin' you, nigga
Huh, we put fear in motherfuckers hearts for years, nigga
You know how we ride, nigga, soon as we hit the county, nigga
Watts up! You know, C-O-M-P-T-O-N
C-O-M-P-T-O-N, nigga
Credits
Writer(s): Phalon Alexander, Charles Williamson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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