Aftermath

[Intro: Dirty Red] Alright players, Alright Gs Hustlers, pimps, macks, real niggas and all that The Time has come, and what a time to drop real gangster poetry on that ass Ha ha, yeah, comin' at you from the under world, The Aftermath! A group of underground lunatics brought together on mission Of destruction So all you bitches and hoes beware, for what lurks beyond in the darkness Give too meanin' to the words totally insane 187, mo' motherfucking murderous homicidal skills for you suckers Stay down and get that ass clowned KMG, the motherfucking undertaker, the bitch breaker So hoes if you don't know, now you do So that's just the first clue from a nigga on a mission You see, Chronic is way of life, Gs So spray a peace to mothers and get butted the fuck out Awww yeah, with dopeness comes a man named Kokane Influential in amount, believin' in a certain theory That all players must come correct Either that or he'll gets no respect You see, it's all about makin' yours in this life time So with that said, I would like to introduce one more player in this game A nigga named Shank, A.K.A. the Kane A nigga known for breakin' suckas off So y'all believin' in the theory of elevation Reason bein, I got the fly... fly... shit for that ass So here it is players, aww yeah, bitches too The fly shit for you So tune in and get faded with The Aftermath, niggas [Hook: Cold 187um & KMG](x2) Funk them up Funk them up, Funk them up, from the Westcoast Funk them up, Funk them up, Funk them up Funk them up, Funk them up, from the Eastcoast Funk them up, Funk them up, Funk them up [Verse 1: Cold 187um] Awww, comin' through the motherfuckin' side door Checkin' all the niggas, and Clockin' all the hoes So before you jump up, and get wily like coyote You better ask your bitch if she knows me (ooooohhhhh) Cause I got two pounds of baking soda and two pounds of coke I brought a bitch some Bamby, some papers, so I can smoke (KMG)So you can call them when you want to, baby Yah, right, because I've just told you homie the same two nights ago Or should I say four scores ago So bow wow, wow, wow, yippi yay, yippi yo, ho Because to play you is my only wish Yo, so pass me the skin so I can rush it like Emmitt Smith And then I have to come boil that ass, toil that ass Bump that ass and straight funk that ass I guess you motherfuckers get the clue (what up?) Soda for the cut up, chuckies to hop to "yeah" I maybe in your Coupé, or Jeep or your Wagon I maybe makin' dollars but I'm not braggin' I give my props to my niggas in the Penhouse, see For tryin' to come up, Gettin' caught up in the system G It's like a game, never fit to win So I'll see you when you get out if not when I get in (Well, alright) Cause I'm not the Rodney King Part Two So I'm a smoke one for me and smoke a gang for you [Verse 2: KMG] Then you're makin' a nigga, aww shit, the whore gigolo flow Quick so... what's the word? I've just set a verse to the hoes with the Deuce on the corner The green eyed hooker with the juice and the totters The true black macadamian in Funk pole Hit the whores, get quick to fade Al Capone Let me take my hat off And peep my Madonna, sex magazines Freak all the nymphos I'm a pussy fiend Ooh, Mister Mister, twister twister is what they call me Then they bone me Hoes on my Diznick, I'm livin' a revelation I'm kickin' the real shit, fuck the nigga's reputation (fuck it) Go out to the dome, what up?, I'll straight fuck you Or told my nigga Shake, .45 to buck you Or I'm a trip and bring K-Oss at it Or my nigga Mack fuckin' re-up to Pimp Clinic So, I'm a ask you a question (what up Loc'?) Do you wanna die for me? (yeah) Or do you wanna die for my Kokane at 17-5 a key? [Verse 3: Dirty Red] Awww yeah, I sit leanin' on my toners when I'm bellin' Through the crooked streets deep in Cali' where I'm dwellin' Sellin' mobile dubs cause I gotta make a dolla' Feelin' drop the top of my rag-top-grey Impala I'm jerkin' a local nigga out the do it and sharin' dirt Got two hoes on the corner and they feeling put in work Now the pimps, though I ships my pimp And on the down low, too many hoes will get a nigga in some trouble And so I'm... bumped the three wheel motion Hit the corner quick, feeling like the Chronic stick And get higher than a motherfuker I got a beap on the sky pager, trick ass bitch Put the trick on time so it's off to the next day Yeah, picked up my mobile phone, to make a booty call Creepin' down Crenshaw, watchin' out for the law (yeah, the motherfuckers) Cause the police quick to put the nigga on the side of the curb And take a choke of my burb, G And leaves a nigga like show But I ain't want them up, I got the dope from the street motherfuckers [Interlude: Cold 187um] Aww yeah, The Aftermath Journey through this Aftermath Kokane is here Here goes Kane, check this out [Verse 4: Kokane] Now I'm comin' around, comin' around, comin' around the fuckin' mountain Wettin' niggas up like a motherfuckin' fountain So don't clone me, don't get attached Cause some of you niggas' styles more faker than a Wrazzaler Match Added preservatives, artifficial flavors Baking soda free, said I say a fuckin' savior Give your R&B, house Music, I'll say hell no Beatin' Donnie Simpson where I be funkin' on the show Who gives the funk shit like that? you know it's We Cause G shit came from the concrete So take a seat in the back jack, known I gots to strap No longer will there be a white motherfucker dictating what is real rap You motherfucking hypocrites Bring your ass as used to promote that heavy metal shit To the K to the O to the K to the A, to that's N-E we flowwww My name is Kokane, never askin' the reason I ball So Bon Voyage I gots the stack And I'm out Schwarzeneger but I'll be back (Funkin' you)