Tekst piosenki
[ VERSE 1: Prodeje ] Now when I stroll through the streets you wonder will you see me I keep it low cause the girls wanna gee me Had to be loc'ed cause I claim South Central If I get mental I flow slow tempo Nah punk, I can't get gaffled Try to catch me on the streets and you might get gaffled Prod got a Uzi, straight up, punk Cold strap in the trunk if you pull a stunt I get loc'ed and you get smoked cause it's like that The Cartel's gonna get my back Cause on the streets if the tone of your voice is weak you're beat So run up and I'ma serve you heat Puttin on brass knuckles to bust you in your cranium You dislike my clique but can't change em S.C.C., P-r-o-d E the j to the e from the L.A.C Can get looney, run up duck and get bucked down In South Central, fool, you gets clowned [ Chorus ] (Brother, brother, brother, how you make em get down?) --] Professor X (Brother, brother, brother, how you make em get down?) (Streets of South Central) --] Cold 187um (Brother, brother, brother, how you make em get down?) (Now I'm lookin dead at you) --] MC Breed [ VERSE 2: Prodeje ] Fool, you get clowned, socked, beat like a sucker ( ? ) when they don't know of ya Got a little money, so you claim hustler Yeah, the streets made a pooh-put gangster Bought you a six-fo', now you're rollin Got a Cut and your Danes are golden Call yourself evil, are you serious? Man, the chronic's got you delirious Your raw dog is a buster If he saw you're gettin rat-packed he won't help ya Now, check the 89 Hustlers We're not a gang but we're down stay down for us With a six-fo' Chevy, Uzi's and money Homeboy, ain't a damn thing funny You better walk it like you talk it Cause if you can't back up your shit you gettin lynched With your khakis low and locs, what you thinkin? You could roll the hood without sinkin Into a straight 211? Boy, you're buggin The pavement's what you be huggin [ Chorus (variations) ] [ VERSE 3: Prodeje ] Homebody's gettin lit and then they get they clown on Makin noise at the park cause it's like home Doin dips, shootin hoops, gettin drunk Lookin out for a buster punk The OG's stay down with the scene The little locs ill cause the youngsters are mean Rollin up strapped and they liable to gat ya Go to ( ? ) come right back at ya What you gonna say when the 8's on your shoulder Your money is gone cause they know you a roller Come up short or get smoked like a clocker Call one-time and get labelled a sucker You got beef, then roll up like a soldier Handle yours and go out much bolder ( ? ) and you can still be down But run up weak on the streets and get clowned [ Chorus (variations) ]
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