Gangbangin' 101

West Coast... it's time to stand up nigga We gon' unite 'round this motherfucker one time I'm callin' every real Crip nigga and every real B-Dogg, to the table right now Yeah... we gon' push a real line right now See if y'all with this real gangsta guerrilla shit Have you ever seen 100,000 Rip riders from the side Blue Chuck's, blue rags, grey clouds, blue skies On the move, can't lose, Hill Street blues Niggaz gotta pay they dues on the crews or with the uzi spray these suckas then I cruise, my granny saw it on the news She shook up, look up and then she put me on the move I tried to get away, but I couldn't get far Cause the homies had the loop-loop that night at King Park And I got into a squab, got caught and went to jail Straight to the County with no motherfuckin' bail 4800 with this Crippin', oh well My big homie Boy Blue snatched me by my coattail He said trip Dogg, ya better get right, Crip right Eyes open 'cause niggaz get stuck on seez-ight It ain't no motherfuckin' problem - pop-pop, tick-tock Never flip-flop, 20 Crippin' til I drop Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot Ca-rip Is I, in the motherfuckin' S-5 With the red bandana double knotted 'round the rearview Niggaz see clear through, they know that it's Game Cherry red Lowenhart's let 'em know that I bang So bang, like Snoop in "Deep Cover" I got the seat reclined, fo-five under the white-T, smothered Dippin' down Green Leaf, I ain't got no enemies Been shot five times, now I bleed Hennessy And bang for my niggaz locked up, they can't stop us It ain't a gangsta party 'til we go and dig Pac up I'm Dr. Martin Luther King with two guns on Hughey P. Lewis with Air Force One's on I gangbang but I'm the opposite of Tookie Williams Red Lambo', red bandana print ceilin' Me and Snoop got the West Coast locked Red and blue rag tied in a knot With all my motherfuckin' homies yellin' out So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip I ran outta gas in Long Beach, I'm stuck Ain't no Bloods and all I see is blue Chuck's Hopped out the '6-trey, nowhere to go Til' Snoop pulled up in that Pittsburgh Steeler '6-4 We "Just Dippin", one Bloodin' one Crippin' I'm on that Bulls shit, throwback Scott' Pippen Moral is, my bandana hangin' from the left side So if you ain't a Crip or a Blood, just throw up Westside (What up Blood?) Yeah cuz, we just tippin' Me and Game doin' thangs, switchin' lanes, Hurricanes on my feet Stop, and C-Walk to the beat Game, take the wheel and turn on 21st Street Eastside LBC, gun in my hand It's the turf by the surf but we don't play in the sand We just - slip and slide out, we Rip and ride out Let it C known, nigga welcome to the Thunderdome Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot So whooot, so whooot, so whooot, so whooot Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip...