it up
Yo, when I roll you the cats be out So you got no choice but to rat me out I call in from the pen to try to see what that be 'Cuz I a fool slip and yo, his ass is out
Hud, on the low, pop two cops Thug, against all odds, like I'm up, dog-tired from Jacob Platinum, for it then wake up
For top dollar yo, I squeeze my And Lord knows, I'll lead nigga I'm down for whatever Matter of fact, I'm down for the Try to clown and get yo' ass layed forever
Niggas to see a G come up niggas that run up get gun up That's the real, seen the nigga the steel wink and yo' ass get killed, all out
This is for the Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low All weed smokers, E sippers All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, it up is for the know-knotters Six-fo' riders, all ones are low riders Whether blued out or out Mask on, ridin' them big things out, yay a yay
Light up the ba-ba, ask yourself, why try? Touch the untouchable that's in front of you Harlem U.S.A be the place that I come Twenty-ninth and Lenox be that place I get the from Vacant lots be the that we used to run from Thirty-second precinct until Jackie caught the
hot now, cops now, all out gotta eat Close food shop down, send across the street My force overheat the cause is cheap Reminiscin' all my homies I lost on the streets Dos Bruce, LB and even D Pour liquor out and throw it up for a G NRB, be the click they to be So if worse come to worse, do the for me
This is for the Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low All smokers, Olde E sippers All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, it up is for the know-knotters Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low Whether out or flamed out on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay
Now, we drink Colt '45, tote Smoke 'til we high, loc we die Got locked up in said, "Foo, what you in for?" Jail mental', Wendel Did 15, and got 10 more Oh, he was silent than In '83 was the first with
his first bid dealin' with narcotics And had Day and always kept 'em polished You me about khakis and converse And if a try to move then you ball first, feel me? But now I'm stackin' my Back in the trick, come out a day is a slap on the wrist But one time sleep on it I went from Harlem to L.A. fool, so on it
This is for the Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low All weed smokers, Olde E All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, it up This is for the Six-fo' riders, all ones are low riders Whether out or flamed out Mask on, ridin' with them big out, yay a yay
is for the know-knotters Six-fo' riders, all ones are low riders All weed smokers, E sippers All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, it up is for the know-knotters Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low blued out or flamed out Mask on, ridin' them big things out, yay a yay