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Correct Rollin' Down Da Block Lyrics
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Artists: S
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South Central Cartel
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Correct Rollin' Down Da Block
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Lyrics:
Havoc: Oh man, where my keys at man? I can't find my keys We're havin a problem with these old bustas out in the Central Oh, here they go Let's roll Young prod: Bow to the wow yippie-yo into the yeain I can swing my sack really though I ain't playin It's Young Prod with the S. C. C. Breakin 'em off like a G. E. From the S. C. Flee (We're on a mission this is how we do it Grey 6-4 on gold D's we them bluest) Partner been crossed slippin in the hood where it's good All good for me cause I got him for a G (It's that fool with the chrome. 9 Beretta) (9-3 jetter - I. O. You. Letter) I don't give a mother-mad (huh) like a 17 switches Gettin riches and gettin rid of bitches Prod what you hittin for (Two Tec-9's a safe full of money and a life of hard times) Trigga-happy-pappy yo it's me So never fade the better from a young-ass G Oh, here I come as I swing with the gangstas Suckas step up and he slip when I bank ya The homie don't try to fade If you can't hang with a young-ass G From the hood where the yay' slangs flee Rollin down the block Rollin non-stop Rollin in my '64 and I keep it drop... Mobbin' down the block with the Glock Got the 16 shots for the crooked-ass cop Gots to be a true G see me later as I creep Mausberg pump (jump) I put that ass on sleep So tippy-tippy-toe as I float through the hood in my 4 Job-top-D's punk please (oh no) G slidin' down tha block with the Glock cocked Feelin' bigger picture Rhimeson droppin non-stop Hits for the streets as I groove like a G Hollow point tips in the cut playin' low key You got the (1-2-3) for the set Bend that ass over I'ma stuff it with the jet Yeah, I hang around like herpes and tricks wanna slurp me The Glock 10 is puttin in work G Havikk from the C be a G with this N-you-T's Hangin strong like a tree Fool, so flee from, it's a C thang a G thang Chronic all day (Ak) goin insane Droppin punks in the mud make his blood die the rug In the hood where it's good cause I gets love Chorus... Havoc: Yeah this is how the S. C. C. Do they shit In the '94 Yeah, 'In-Gatz-We-Trust-Style' on your ass Murder Squad 4 life, fools Prodeje: Break 'em off quicker with the trigger Throw 'em in the river Dip thru the hood while you figure Why must I be like this Is it cause I'm ruthless Naw, gotta show 'em how I do this Up in the mornin Everybody sleep While you countin sheep Prodeje is on the creep Because I got the fever for the flavour I got to get my wage to keep my car phone and my pager I'm hittin' licks on the backstreets Gotta get some gold thangs cause I wanna get fat freaks Not the fat like a fat but the fat like a popper That take ya to the 'tel for the popper In the hood's where it's good Let's make it understood I love the damned hood like my wood G's hangin long like my family jewels On the corners with the Ides mad-doggin the fools Yeah, that gangsta rhyme has got me goin in circles So you should be awakin like hearshal It ain't nuthin goin on but the buck life bang But in the hood's where the G's hang Chorus... L. V. 's. C. Thang', it ain't the same thang
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