Here We Go

[Verse 1: Julius Luciano] Im the truth, but no sole journer My rims killa, the door suicide, low low murda Tell yo ho slurp on my long pole My mojo work her, I coach home herds of Bad divas, I'mma fast teacha, I'm no slow learner The flow gone murk ya If not, Im at yo show, in wo-fo?? The fo’ fo’ burn ya Shots finna melt ya skin, oh no derma- Tologist, helpin him, I goes on further Dollars you sell then spend, slow dough earner Not getting wealthy, seen, got my nina And my wife beater, call us Ike and Tina but though I'm no Turner Oh, Im oh so dope, bonkos, no Most hoes, jump on my sticks like pogos, words On my oh roll, Crook showed me the ropes Goes so hard, now Im no joke, word up! [Hook: Kenny Siegel] Up in the club, yeah - with my thugs, yeah (Here we go) If niggas mug, yeah - I got the snub, yeah (Here we go) Poppin bub, yeah - a couple sluts, yeah (Here we go) Tryna cut, yeah - Im tryna touch, yeah (Here we go) Where the hoes, point em out Where they at, there they go Let em know, what we bout Throwin stacks like EY! (EY)…EY! (EY)…EY! (EY) We throwin stacks like EY! (EY)…EY! (EY)…EY! (EY) [Verse 2: Kenny Siegel] I tell the jeweler stone me, throw some rocks on me Then I'll go out and loiter the cold streets of Long Beach Searchin for a chicken who might loan me her dome piece Im living when I stroll, yeah, Im pimpin when Im lozy?? You know me like virgins, I never give a fuck Ima boss listen up, I toss chickens up That’s right I flip birds like I'm pitchin plenty of keys Or givin people the finger, listen Siegel’s no singer But I, blow notes, and yeah I hold notes Im talkin them C-notes, and yeah I throw notes My fitted brim is touchin my nose, its so low But I still see you haters, so a mugs a no-no Cuz my strap love smoking and blowing, it stay loaded I'll go in your clothes, then shots’ll go in your clothing Im holdin the, chromes, Ill pop, unload and explode it My necklace is frozen, my watch is cold as my stroll is [Hook] [Verse 3: Dice Dinero] Im pullin up back to the club, with a Dodger blue six With about twenty karats hanging from my neck and wrist In the VIP, popping nothing but bottles of Cris’ But it’ll popping that Glock, if niggas poppin they lips (yeah) Im reppin the Circle Gang, and C-O-B around here (round here!) Rockin white T’s and ice around here You gotta respect my swag, my feet match my customized jag Nobody on the corner got swag Like Us, I stay on top of my cake like icing I one night you bitches, that’s why you think I'm trifling I use my heat to get dough, I pimp my ride I swear to God, you chain-snatchas’ll fill up your ride With bullets, cuz me and my clique don’t play that shit We stay in the club, with a Glock and a clip Mackin a bitch, makin it rain with a bottle of Hen’ Til the bartender yell his last call and then we out this bitch (C-O-B!) [Hook]