[Intro: Cold 187Um]
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, I wanna do reminiscing on real on this one man
You know, I wanna go way back man
You know, so don't stop the tape
You know, I'ma kick somethin'
so everybody know what time it is man
[Verse 1: Cold 187Um]
Now, here's a little story I have to tell
About three young niggaz, you know so well
It started way back in history
With my main homey K-oss and the homey Km.G
Yo, we used to push big weight, on the north side of P-town
So you don't have to question if we really down
Check your nigga for his heart, if he's smart
See he's (bog down) who kicking in the park after dark
Cause niggaz be trying to shortstop the work
But I'm, "nobody move, nobody get hurt"
We had to watch for the snitches, the bitches
The ones that save them bitches from them feds when they smash through
Without a clue, that was scary
So we had to pack up the shack and we moved down the Moeberry
All the neighbors who are know on ya
And all I can remember is Grace saying "baby I'ma pray for ya"
It was dooming big trouble, speedy local too
We took turns when the real money came through
And if the po-po rush anyway
They be thinking all the way to fucking Cali 'fore they find yay
We made the killing at summer
Cause back then the police was no dumber
Yeah, Young black niggaz, no job, no schooling
Yeah straight black we was ruling
I mean from Ghosttown to Cin-town, all the way to the islands
Coming through cause violence
I served any motherfucker bein' Blood or Crip
We be the last motherfuckers that was known to slip, or trip up
And I'ma help you meet your Maker
That's how it is when I'm chasing that paper, for real....
[Chorus: Cold 187Um]
I'ma keep hustlin' till the day I die
Cause see the rap game and pimp game is all the same
So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I'm going through
And let me know to keep it true
ugh, now see I'ma keep hustlin' till the day I die
Cause see the rap game and pimp game is all the same
So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I'm going through
And let me know to keep it true, ugh
[Verse 2: Km.G]
See I can propose a toast to the illest pimp-ganging
in the motherfucking town, and my lawer standing ground
Vitals running through my mind, thinking about the time
When I was like strolling, one time patrolling the hood
My knuckle K-oss had a little-Old-Spot
With a gang of rocks and a fat-Ass-Knot
Yeah, we're pushing down the block with dubs and tools
Went to the little spot to scoop my nigga Daddy Cool
Trigga nigga, the one that keeps the Ese's loco
The one with a ruff, rugged platinum vocals
He said he loved how we're doing it right?
Busters, mad doggin' what that clinic like
But anyway, put some chemicals all up in the air
And call this hoe, that wants to do your fucking hair
7-up's got a lick, and we need to be lovely
A smooth little taking from them fools of raw making
They gave it up like a groupie
No gun-play by K cavy flosses, and case of Tanqueray
Shoot back to the crib with the straps
Then hook up at the shack with them Bel-Air-Rats.....
[Chorus: Cold 187Um]
Yeah, I'ma keep hustlin' till the day I die
Cause see the rap game and pimp game is all the same
So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I'm going through
And let us know to keep it true
ugh, now see I'ma keep hustlin' till the day I die
Cause see the rap game and pimp game is all the same
So put your hands in the air, if you feel what I'm going through
And let us know to keep it true
[Outro: Cold 187Um]
ugh, yeah, Pimp Clinic reprents to..ugh fullest
Yeah, ugh, yeah ninety twist-style, ninety twist-style
we're flippin' ki's you know what I'm sayin'
hah, yeah, ugh, yeah, it's all the same ugh, yeah
ugh
