Tray Deee - Gang Bangin' Ass Criminal lyrics

[Daz Dillinger] Yeah, Daz Dillinger I'm gonna take you into some gangsta sh** What y'all n***as don't even know about And now you fans to know about What we call Gangsta Rap But this is for the n***as who was down from day one Love to hear, love to hear you motherf**ers I advise all you ghetto livin', struggling from day to day Tryin' to flip a figure dollar devil up inside a bag of weed A fresh pair of khakis and take a b**h to the movie a** n***as To get your money man, get paid These motherf**ers are cut off welfare How are we go eat if we don't cheat These (?) b**h to me made the game out of young black n***as lives Striking us out from left to right With no motherf**ing one in sight f** that!! Sell your dope Get your jack on, get your sack on Put your rag on and get your motherf**ing thang on, n***as Cause it's on God dammit it's on Now what the hell you bout to go youngster [The Gang (Tray Deee, Ty Cuzz, Bad A$$, Technique)] Go ride n***a Bout to go get the homies n***a, right now [Daz] Oh yeah motherf**er it's on [The Gang] Ay come on Bad A$$ let's do it n***a, it's on now n***a Ay ay n***a What's up n***a (What's up) Ay n***a n***a the homie called, the big shot today n***a (Word) n***a you were ment to meet him today n***a (Man I take my baby inside today man) What's up n***a n***a, Ay, We can't realy talk right now tough n***a (Alright) But uh, it's going down later on 9-30 n***a The big man ho n***a Be there n***a Yeah [Bad A$$ ]What's up Daz Dillinger [Daz] sh**, Bad A$$, tryin' to keep it realer than real, man Least half these punk a**.... Motherf**ing n***as around here bullsh**tin' The big spot n***a, ain't clockin' no dollar [BA] Man I'm trying to have Man I ain't trying to go for sh** [DD] Man you know my Glock is hot (Eastside) Verse One: [Kurupt Tha Kingpin] I'm coming through your zone late night, sh** Dogg Pound Gangsta to flame the light sh** Cause I hold on I'm 20 feet tall The biggest walkin' bill f** around to get k**ed Get shoot Don't try to sneak a peak in my book (?Home at hose?) , overdose the thoughts when he look The forbidden The hittin' zone that I'm hitting Don't play with my intelligence n***a as the heat (?slittin'?) (?) So I only got two choices; loc me the blasin' bomb Vietnam I bring the pain rains no (?) Execution style is the shells from the heat veal Down to the ground like the rest of the dummies Just what the f** you thinkin' try to play with my money It's nothing but the Dogg Pound Gangstas Mashes, verbal disasters, 38 stashes Verse Two: [Tray Deee] I arise in disguise to surprise that a** What you thought you caught me short I might ride to blast With the canna We let the sh** all up in your nuts When n***as droppin', they stop with the plan they plots Got to stop for my gate With (?) of break Marked n***as caught in, they try to win and get sprayed Rip the gates Go flip the page to chapter three First groove, they fools can't come after me I mash to free Styles of catastrophe Ask for G A n***a best to answer me My rip long as the beach that I represent Dead n***a with my stare not to step to this Verse Three: [Daz Dillinger] Now o yeah Tray Deee I mean I see the whole plot Be on alert, n***as shot Anywhere under that n***a caught So drop the microphone on my own I shown to blown Away for these MC's with the sludge of a chrome I take the fang Down on my own lyrical name When the sees are changed When the storms and hurricanes Wide strand Spittin' rhymes, the beats so precise (?) Skatin' on mics like ice Twice in the day I get drunk (?) of plastic bags Sack in the truck Because the rhyme as claim I sh** buck like the doctor Coming through Bouncin' with the droptop Like gangstas chillin on the block Nah, we ain't worry for sh** Got escape doors like Capone Whit chick your dick on my clip Forty-fives and nives Three-eighties and automatics Sniveling, coming through for you When your boys with some stats I got to have eleven to thrill of the drama Enthusing me to gets my norm with the slaughter Ought to be known as Daz Dillinger For the sh** that I known for A Dogg Pound criminal Verse Four: [Soopafly] Now if the spot's hot I hit the switch make the topdrop Don't stop It's Soopafly with the sho shot Won't stop I got ya whole sh** to Look and listen I rendition the rhymes with precision You can't face Amaze me a place like a saddle It's Dogg Pound Ganstas (?) like a shadow I never met a motherf**er who can make you stick I never met a motherf**er who can feel my clique You serve, you'll make the twitch like a nerve You'll try to step to my wild style seperve Adjective the verve Action pack with the words I'll make it stop The jaws drop and observe I sold the block for Crook, Daz, Style and Tray Deee We be coming with the sh** That be the bomb baby And ain't a Dogg Pound Gangsta will knock you to the flow Either you stupid as f** or just don't know Verse Five: [Bad A$$] Now I know you, know you Stupid as f** co*k, bust like a sawed off punk Double barrel on 'em Black gambinos at casinos Get De Niro on 'em If I want 'em I go get 'em If I gotta shot a nine Twice, that's what I rhyme like My clip ain't empty Do try to test the ridah Nativity simply Bust, I lead inside ya Find ya Fear them, frightened for your life With your last few Live with hot live from gunblast Outlaws, outcast Low life, south last Long Beach n***as blast Yeah the b-side is right The most, the coast The west, the best We damn b**hes Sippin', hittin' switches Dippin' hittin' robbin' n***as Itchy fingers on triggers Itty, bitty n***as Ready for war We kick down your door Draw eatin' Lay everybody down on the floor Verse Six: [Technique] The same thing, different place With snakes, cowards and strong grown Robbery cases, n***as faces On paperchase It was seen, it was written It ain't forbidden For homies to be splittin' Disagree, no one was hitten Known with the curls The many obstacles Impressions to the feet from gettin' served Growing up is rough Your name Here's the streets it gets tough You can be scuffed and stuffed Then I guess you had enough Over (?) It ain't coincidental that I be distorted And my manual Minds Is for seein', so I watch Bodies and plots Win the plots Call the shots for your nuts n***a grips That's why I (?) my dippin' progress Cause why is all we tryin' to defeat the progress I just ain't the one mystic to hit Young Jonesy sees Who I got a mission to hit And constantly flips scripts Outta wall with balls fast talkin' And quick draws How the problem is solved I want it all (I want it all) But it's movin' to slow I'm out to blow I don't know which way to go Was on the right path I thought Without doin' a dirty word about getting caught ("getting caught" echoes)