187 On a Hook-Brotha Lynch Hung

[Featuring: WC] [Intro] [Verse 1: C-BO] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one No matter the category, can't compare me to none The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag And when it come to beef I take it by the slab Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave' Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have Put it in the bag, jury in the cask Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em' Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em' Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em' Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em' [Hook C-BO & WC] I can here you screaming murder (murder murder) 187 and it's murder (murder) (C-BO and WC we know) Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder) I can here you screaming murder (murder murder) 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder) (all I hear, all I am, all I know) Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder) I can here you screaming murder [Verse 2: WC] Niggas be yelling they all in Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin' Thats why I stroll slow solo Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo Dubcudda, lie you in your casket Sock the lenses out your designer glasses The west of the imperial, gun with no serial O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D Niggas can't f**k with me, but f**k with me And I literally bury you bastards Leave you chest down, with your head backwards I stay strapped, so get it understood Before this rap shit, I was f**king with the hood Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal Dub and C-BO [Hook] [Verse 3: C-BO] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings You might think it's f**ked up, but this is how do things South side Sacramento dont stop in it The maniac deuce nine, the block get it When it come to the lick, we like to forty things And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me Bandannas and big cannons we f**king g's Ak's and banana clips for the enemies So go hard or nigga just go the f**k home If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the f**k home [Hook]