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Correct 4 Ya Ear Lyrics
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Artists: S
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South Central Cartel
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Correct 4 Ya Ear
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Lyrics:
[ chorus ] S. C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good Rollin down the 'Shaw in my Lexus [?] rims and my Alpine bumpin The 808 is thumpin [ verse 1: Havikk the Rhime Son ] Dippin down yo block, battery's hot in a rag deuce Flossin on threes, gold d's for my gees Slidin [?] dub skatin evil as I swerve Hit the switch on a bitch, post my Daytons on the curb Easin through the hood, scope the scenery Fiendin for the greenery Gotta stack a end as I bend North on the 'Shaw past the one-time flossin Catch a fool slippin on them 100 spokes, he's walkin Home like a buster, let the Alpine crank Switch the cd as I fire up the dank Oh thank God I'm a rider, Rhime Son be Yo, that gee from the Carte... With pockets on swoll' and the caviar's callin me And niggas mad-doggin me bringin out the hog in me Punk-ass busters wanna show me, they flexin Parks my six-deuce as I jumps in my Lexus [ chorus ] S. C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good [ verse 2: Prodje'je ] Once again it's on, polish up the chrome on my coupe d Open up a new [?] The [?] is in my deck and it's rockin Shockin, hoes wanna pose but I'm knockin Boots as I swoops down the 91 West Yes, I gots to wear a bullet-proof vest Fools wanna trip so I trip back on em Fuck they ass up till they hoes don't want em I'm on em, the Eastside gees and the P At ease, you don't wanna fuck with these And we'se the malice, careless muthafuckas Puttin pooh-puts in a jammie like Smuckers My knockers holdin shit down like the underground (We'll make you go round and round) So now I'm callin up my crew And what you gonna do When you see the niggas in blue [ chorus ] S. C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good Rollin down the 'Shaw in my Lexus [?] rims and my Alpine bumpin The 808 is thumpin [ verse 3: Droop & Twin ] One mo' time through yo hood and mines You're walkin thin lines on these bomb-ass rhymes And verses, sleepin off in hearses Niggas on the run cause my flows cause curses With verses, we ain't in this game for the fame We just like servin hoods like a muthafuckin hurricane Muthafuckin busters, me and Twin puttin it down in '96 Tossin up tricks and crossin niggas like chop sticks Shit I spit hits your ears and cause pain Stressin out your frame like you got Slim-Fast on your brain It ain't no thing to be a in-the-cut rider And it ain't no thing to be a black godfather Think of a nigga standin 5 foot 6 With some baggy-ass pants and some bomb-ass kicks Twin gives a fuck, loc, cause I'm a rider With my nigga Droop be O. G. Westsider [ outro: Havoc the Mouthpiece ] Rollin through your hood is another nigga from the Cartel Who done earned his stripes Bumpin "Flashlight" Tryin to get rich like Richie [ ] through my city [ chorus (repeated till fade) ] S. C. Cartel bumpin fat tracks in your ear Rollin in your hood and you know it's all good Rollin down the 'Shaw in my Lexus [?] rims and my Alpine bumpin The 808 is thumpin
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