World Class Wreckin Cru - Gang Bang You're Dead lyrics
[World Class Wreckin Cru - Gang Bang You're Dead lyrics]
What's up, cuz? What that is, blood?
All about them rocks
Yo man! What up?
I just bought me the three G's today, dude
Is that right?
Some Gazelles, some Gucci and some Guess, bro
Yeah man, the house is rollin'
Real tough dude, real tough
Just got them fresh inky's on the Nissan
(Beeper) Got to go dude, money calls
Hey man, you hear what happened to
Homeboy the other night?
Yeah man, that was raw, that was real raw
Man he didn't have a chance
You got to watch your
Back in this neighborhood
Been that way for a long time, man
That ain't cool at all
Listen to the story as we rap to the beat
As we educate you about life in the street
'Cause gang bangin', dope slangin'
Bad for the head
If you do it too long, you'll end up dead
If you don't end up dead
You'll end up in jail
Living your life in a concrete hell
Gang bang! You're dead and
Lying in the street
Gang bang! Fifteen years old and
A cold piece of meat gang bang! Now tell me
Brotha what'cha gonna do
Gang bang! When the coroner puts
The bag on you
Ooh you're standing on the corner
Selling weed
Trying to earn money for the things you need
You look like a waitress, who works in a bar
But you don't wait on tables
You wait on cars
You don't carry a tray, you carry a bag
A car passes by, you start to blag
A car pulls over then you make the drop
And out jumps a badge and a narco cop
Up against the wall, and down to jail
You can't go home 'cause you can't make bail
Your mother's at home, constantly crying
For fear that her baby could be dying
You wear red rag, blue rag, and big shoelaces
You drink 40 ounce brew by the cases
You dress so tacky 'til you look like a slob
And you wonder why you can't get a job
You wear barrettes and you
Call yourself a man
And you never wear the right size pants
Your clothes are never fresh
They're always stale
Who's your designer, the county jail?
You got secret words and finger signs
Twisted egos and warped minds
Your grammar is bad and you think you're cool
But if you listen to yourself
You sound like a fool
A boy goes to visit his favorite girl
Not knowing it's his last day in this world
He turns the corner and to his surprise
He sees 20 thugs before his eyes
Then they ask him, "what set you from?"
He stands there looking nervous and dumb
They take his money and pull out a knife
Then they beat him to a
Pulp and take his life
The police come around asking questions, but
The neighbors respond with cold rejection
They say they're terrified
Too scared to get involved
But tell me, how can this crime be solved
It's the 1st of the month
And it's mother's day
Helpless women with kids are your prey
You lurk in the shadows like a hype
Can't wait to put a rock in that pipe
You snatch a woman's purse then
You start to run police are on your heels
And you're having fun
You slide into the alley to count the cash
But the woman had the money
In her other stash
You get real mad and you start to curse
Because the woman didn't have the
Money in her purse
Everything was perfect but you had one flaw
You were being followed by the law
All about them rocks
Yo man! What up?
I just bought me the three G's today, dude
Is that right?
Some Gazelles, some Gucci and some Guess, bro
Yeah man, the house is rollin'
Real tough dude, real tough
Just got them fresh inky's on the Nissan
(Beeper) Got to go dude, money calls
Hey man, you hear what happened to
Homeboy the other night?
Yeah man, that was raw, that was real raw
Man he didn't have a chance
You got to watch your
Back in this neighborhood
Been that way for a long time, man
That ain't cool at all
Listen to the story as we rap to the beat
As we educate you about life in the street
'Cause gang bangin', dope slangin'
Bad for the head
If you do it too long, you'll end up dead
If you don't end up dead
You'll end up in jail
Living your life in a concrete hell
Gang bang! You're dead and
Lying in the street
Gang bang! Fifteen years old and
A cold piece of meat gang bang! Now tell me
Brotha what'cha gonna do
Gang bang! When the coroner puts
The bag on you
Ooh you're standing on the corner
Selling weed
Trying to earn money for the things you need
You look like a waitress, who works in a bar
But you don't wait on tables
You wait on cars
You don't carry a tray, you carry a bag
A car passes by, you start to blag
A car pulls over then you make the drop
And out jumps a badge and a narco cop
Up against the wall, and down to jail
You can't go home 'cause you can't make bail
Your mother's at home, constantly crying
For fear that her baby could be dying
You wear red rag, blue rag, and big shoelaces
You drink 40 ounce brew by the cases
You dress so tacky 'til you look like a slob
And you wonder why you can't get a job
You wear barrettes and you
Call yourself a man
And you never wear the right size pants
Your clothes are never fresh
They're always stale
Who's your designer, the county jail?
You got secret words and finger signs
Twisted egos and warped minds
Your grammar is bad and you think you're cool
But if you listen to yourself
You sound like a fool
A boy goes to visit his favorite girl
Not knowing it's his last day in this world
He turns the corner and to his surprise
He sees 20 thugs before his eyes
Then they ask him, "what set you from?"
He stands there looking nervous and dumb
They take his money and pull out a knife
Then they beat him to a
Pulp and take his life
The police come around asking questions, but
The neighbors respond with cold rejection
They say they're terrified
Too scared to get involved
But tell me, how can this crime be solved
It's the 1st of the month
And it's mother's day
Helpless women with kids are your prey
You lurk in the shadows like a hype
Can't wait to put a rock in that pipe
You snatch a woman's purse then
You start to run police are on your heels
And you're having fun
You slide into the alley to count the cash
But the woman had the money
In her other stash
You get real mad and you start to curse
Because the woman didn't have the
Money in her purse
Everything was perfect but you had one flaw
You were being followed by the law