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Seagram - It Don't Stop lyrics
featuring Gangsta P [Seagram] Click click boom On your mothafuckin' ass punk Its that nigga name Seag bringin' funk Straight from the O to the A to the K to the L to the A to N to the D (Bitch!) S.N.V. is a hood that I roll through Talkin' that punk shit nigga I told you You cant fuck with the real loc gee You niggaz dont know me I fucked your dead homie And I can give a fuck about the shit that you stress I'm handlin' more mail than you B.S. So you can jump up And pump up your mothafuckin' Reeboks I cant be faded not even with some Clorex I'm funky like sweat socks Funky like stink Cock a hundred dee on that deal block When you see me in the Benz Jealous niggaz dont be talkin' I aint sidin' on you, tricks I'm just flossin' So be aware of the late nite stranger With 49 in the clip and one in the chamber... [Gangsta P] Mothafuckas want the rocks? Well, I got'em Steppin' on the block And never leave home without'em Slangin' on the mothafuckin' Seminary street Now I'm known to be a gee cause the nigga's 23 Step broke and get broke off some proper My lil homie Ken Pulled a trigga of a Chopper, nigga Lets get ghost in the bucket Cock the steel, fuck the police Cause the niggaz is real Comin' from the mothafuckin' sixties Known to pull a trigga Till the clip's on empty Stranded in the jungles of the East Oaktown Come through but i still slang my dope a pro Ice creams, so wont you come and get it? Niggaz try to jack get sprayed and be finished Lil Gangsta P, S.N.V. Till I die, layin' dead six feet deep... [Seagram] 4-deep in the bucket Rollin' with some convicts, East Side lunatics Doin' shit, stack some dough, slap a hoe Or jack a foe with my MAC-1-0 Straight from Oakland Cali Slangin' birds in the alley High performances on rallies Fuck the police precint And a kitchen sink They try to make us stink I got killa instinct They got me heated So they gettin' treated With this medication AK's sprayin' with no hesitation Aint no love for them mothafuckin' rednecks Cause in the ghetto shootin' cops is a re-flex As we swing low in the Cheriot Shoot the cop, take the gat, then bury it Caught up in the ways of the East Side Aint no peace ride, the decease ride |
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