1996
[Intro: KM.G]
Yeah, much dedication
To Uno Ocho Siete
He loved that wicked shit
It's for 9-6
Too much mix
[Verse 1]
[KM.G]
Make me a picture, sweet as a memory
No enemies allowed or enabled to get in to me
Hot, fills by body, makes my blood swoll
Real motherfuckers that was seven years loyal
We lost my niggas 6 months ago
And people said: that we out the dark
But we remained sick thick with shit
The Pimp Clinic, niggas in the Park
[Cold 187Um]
Cause see, cash rules everything around
I'm lookin' for a bitch to take 10 of them things out town
Cause niggas outta state got the proper price
A couple of fights, back and forth and we be head tight
You're tryin' to floss, sellin' dopes on the corner
It's 1996, lay you on some white shit
If the po-pos done bitchin', them player-haters willin'
I be sippin' on the Alizé way up on the hill
Waitin' for Tomica to check in
So we can grab the money, make a profit and re-up again
Yeah, it's like my life's one way big hustle
3-65 mothafucker
3-65 mothafucker
3-65, yeah
[Chorus: KM.G]
What see, we're lettin' y'all niggas know the motherfuckin' real
What see, how the motherfuckers, that get your fuckin' cap peeled
What see, we're lettin' y'all motherfuckers turn to the real
Cause I might right trip, Above the Law niggas'll kill at will
[Verse 2]
[KM.G]
Come on, KM.G, no need to be limit again
Count the money, so I can get wet, sweat that ass
Who can let the nigga smoke that hash?
There's too many Glocks in the motherfuckin' stash
We can't walk through the clean part of town
Cause the skinny busters, nigga, might steal our fuckin' sound
And get draw down quick like quick gore
Talent bullets to they dome more leave you hardcore
In stores, so what you need?
And we got that funk sack that wets your fuckin' feet
Take you to valley with the chirmin' in Alley
Niggas shootin' bangers, California street gangsters
[Cold 187Um]
Ugh, I got the infra-red set on the tech, ready to roll
On some punk-ass niggas tryin' to pop like they swoll
Sayin' we put whack shit out
When they knew our first LP was rolled straight out of the Fatike house
That's why I roll with the sickest
That's why they call me 187 and my style is the wickedest
Fuck the B-Boy the truck
I checked my nuts cause I be number one on the block
Still gettin' fuck
Yo, I keep it real motherfucker
Still I am a murderer, still I am untouchable
That was like 1989 now it's 1996
And the only thing changed is my cars and my tilt
Plus everything else has changed
Many losses and many new names
Ugh, and that name was Above the Law
Is that mothafucker, it's all I want
Yeah, I said it, I put that on my great aimin'
See I be true to this shit I be claimin'
Yeah, yo, yo, bring that shit back again we gonna blow you
You know, we're sick, I mean sick
[Chorus & Outro: KM.G & Cold 187um]