Woodie- The Clock Is Tickin’
Bullets fly, quicker than the eyes,
you was hittin mary jane to ease the pain, your homie died.
Mothaufucka ima ride till the rallies on steel.
I’m in the bushes camouflaged aint thinkin bout no clientele.
If I fail I rot in jail, and if I succeed?
I’ll burn in hell so either way I’m fucked in these streets.
The bible says I live my life rough,
statistics say I’ll die young.
I can’t disagree cuz ima fuckin walkin time-bomb.
The clock is tickin, fingers itchin to unleash a piece
and 32 empty homies that are dyin to feast,
upon your flesh.
You wanna kill me? Sucka really?
You’re the type to pull your strap and shoot holes in the ceiling,
and I get out for killing,
sucka give it up,
pull your strap aside, ride to the club and live it up.
out to the cuts.
homies call me tight,
oldies call me thug,
but i really dont care,
wont pull out my hair,
just continue to live my life,
the life of a player.
cops recognize game always tryina try to stop me,
day in, day out, tryina pop me.
task force around the corner, i jet,
they raid the pad, come out,
take my car every other day,
i get it back,
is it cause im rich?
or cause im black?
i wont obey,
nothin they say,
what can they say?
im doin it my way…..
if you from the Bay Area, you need to recognize game on this shit.
J-Diggs- Body Snatcha
Damn, you oughta see my fan mail,
got fans wantin run up on you hit you with handhelds.
fuck boy, i can tell your pussy,
in them tight ass jeans I can smell your pussy
my lil cuddie’s been askin,
if they can go snatch you up n cash you in.
your big mouth made your head a target,
i suggest when you dress make red your garment,
it blends well with the brains and blood,
and you already know what the game is cuz,
since a youngin they be callin me stupid,
cuz i react too fast, and i jump to conclusions,
and im ruthless, im rugged and raw,
and the last thing you wanna do is fuck with Jamal.
i send them boys at you, like where the funk at?
start throwin them shots and you dont want that.
i absolutely judge people by the music they like.
(not always for bad or to act upon. but music speaks volumes and tells me what lyrics you allow to enter your eardrums.)
Woodie- Norte Sidin’
Much pride north side of the golden state
It’s woodie wood from the a-n-t-i-o-c-h
Where the crack bags potent
And the pigs are deep
For every new batch cooked half the town goin sleep
And I creep in a 69 lark for dark
Parking up the block on rallies
Chrome shining like jewels
Swinging sideways the highways up there aiming for brains
With my eyes all dilated swerving through lanes
Shits gone strange but i was up in funk before that
So nothings really changed in this yoc life format
Homies gone or doing time so they putting it deep
But we some norte sidin ridin 90 bumping with heat,
With beat waking out the windows spitting yoc life lingo
(that shits so tight it make my ears tingle)
I seen gold shot deuce deuces all it takes
To rattle up his brains and killers payin for stake
But I prefer to tuck a trey five sev on my nuts
So I can hit them with a gunshot fuckin them up
Living in the skirts of the eastbay co co county
Cranking bomb to keep the ballers paid
But you cant fade when the soldiers get to riding
Flare it up, tearin’ it up