| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
 |
1. |
| 4:03 | 
|
||
|
Heeeyyy Uhh Half Ounce in yo mouth Check it out Half Ounce in the house Chrous: Bring the yellow tape nigga FOSHO Playa hatas infiltrate us niggas HELL NO Fools ready to die Don't be afraid Bring your gun and your sac cuzz we under attack Verse 1: Takes no chances End with up that least circumstances Keeps a cool composure One time's takin those glances Who be's your enemy on the evilest team, Racketeerin all your C.R.E.A.M., Havin your worst bad dreams, Pesos for all the amigos and the sistas, How ya likin us now, Competitas gon' bow, Ain't nothin' top dollar straight corner to corner, Keeps my hand in the pie like little Jack Horner, SOLDIERS on my left right ready to die, Infiltraters six feet keeps our head to the sky, Its a cold cruel world tryin to watch my back, Got these cold ass thugs ready to ride and jack, SHIIT!! For the paper, Street Dreams and all, Best be ready to hit the doo' when the one times call, Gots the picture its still for the money son, And if you're bailin' through Compton you betta bring a gun, Chrous: 2x Verse2: Boom Bam I deliever my blow it could be fatal, Get yo ass smashed like potatoes and gravy, Maybe with some prctice you can fade me, But I doubt it, Picked up the Compton time and read about it, How my crew makes the front page in a rage, In a live concert blowin blunts on stage, People swingin' on a chasity and got the place packed to the maximum capacity, People comin from far and near, To get a glimpse of these gang-bangers, playas and pimps, check it out, When we roll we rolls thick like some nappy ass hair, Straight chronic smoke up in the air, So get it straight nigga, Boom-Bam and Eiht nigga,(GEEYYAA), Peeped yo' game from the start nigga, We know you fake nigga, We gots to keep a close eye fools under our backs, Lock the gates sound the guns cuzz we under attack. Chrous:2x Verse3: Mc Eiht Betta' watch out for the murder I wrote, Black super spokes black stars and a black leather coat, On a mission, Dead presidents I gots to stackin, Enemies can't see the ya-ya in my jacket, Best raise up before I set it off on G.P., First rule if you tryin' to bring harm to me, Felony case catcher to the first degree, Like the ginger bread man yall can't catch me, On the run stilla nigga held no jail cells, Keeps two steps ahead, No traces for feds, Phone taps instead, On the celluar phone, Dumb as fuck cuzz they don't know the number was called, Outta the country, D.A. on the payroll yall, Me and a little senortia on my side the black heater, Sweeter than the rest, Paid pounds at gate sippin, While shippin to the U.S.A., Chrous:3x |
||||||
| 2. |
| 4:38 |
|
|||
|
Come on y'all, hey And this how we gon' do it How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live you know the business How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live... Nigga better check yourself before you think about fuckin' with these Muthafuckas always makin' the cheese 187's for the triggers we squeeze Fool please, like a bitch Drop to your knees Be the bad-ass fool in the game All the ho's be scream my name Throwin' that ass, it's a damn shame Must the game So a nigga be bringin' the pain Ho's Still stand too tall and never fallin' Player haters perpetrate Standin' too close because we ballin' No competition But they wishin' they could dodge 5-0 Lay back in the cut Get sucked and fucked By a gang of hoodrat ho's Thought you knew The way we bring it to you it's on the real From the days of wayback packin' my strap On the West Side of the hill Always chill with a gang of ho's Cluck cluck pesos everyday Be the bomb, show you love So all the skirts head my way P-A-I-D, no T-L-C Hell no, we never beg Take the dick down your throat Don't choke and open up them legs Nuff said Presidents dead cause you know That be's the business Get down like you live cause y'all check it, what what is this How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live you know the business How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live you know the business How you likin' me now, hey How you likin' me now, uh, geah one two How y |
||||||
| 3. |
| 5:01 | 
|
|||
| 4. |
| 3:04 |
|
|||
|
Can I get mine? Can I get your money? Cause ain't a damn thing funny Niggas you know the deal Needs nuthin' but cash Serves the late night fiends to collects my green Peeps the dramatics Still no time for static Paper to all my crew You know how we do Controls the work force Y'all know what I'm speakin' Broke niggas I gets my clown on, ho's I gets my pound on Silk shirts to leather kicks with flicks in Paris Smoke bud in every state, no cases filed for rape Can't escapes that It's the life of the rhymer, fool Me please, I insist to make G's Chills at the top dollar spots with bitches So they can get a glance at the Eihthype riches Bitches they wanna follow and peeps my route But soon catch a hollow and be assed out Ain't no competition Wishing on a star Won't get your ass to very far Dumps out the car, gives a fuck who you are Picks up the stank ho's that chill at the bar Chorus... Come on, uh Half Ounce one time Represent, geah Soul Assassins two time Represent, geah You know how we do, you know how we do Who lounges the best with bitches by the pool Shooting pool, laid back, we too cool Muggs with all the China white, still heavy weighting For the cops to instigate fools player hating Two bitches on my arm But I ain't greedy As I gives to the needy, picks up real speedy You know who moves the crowd like a hot A.K. Money spends, bitches throw ass my way Gives me lots of pesos for the 'migos Pump it hottie, Eihthype rocks the party Who gets away to pay the D.A. So I can float around to make my pay Pay bac |
||||||
| 5. |
| 4:42 |
|
|||
|
Geah One two, one two, uh (compton 4 death...) And how's the fuck we gon' doin' in this one Y'all don't hear me up in here Geah Half ounce one time, stick'em Represent Eight years ago a friend of mine Asked me to say some gangsta rhymes So i said this rhyme i'm about to say I grabbed the blunt and then it went this way Eiht bucked a nigga down to the ground And everybody heard about the compton sound Criminals to drug - dealers grouped with skan'less hoes To the baby kids making the hood grow Can you feel me? gotta make my pay! To the niggas that wanna kill me: i don't play! Walk this way, no foul play i'm n 2 deep One times make a nigga wanna play for keeps Sometimes makes me wanna holler How your homies from the same game wanna tame you for your dollar? Nuthin' to lose, i choose to get a rep Step, yep nigga, compton 4 death, hit me Compton 4 death... Got a thousand for you bitches tryin' to handle this Representin' eazy e's compton city g's My buckshots put holes in your truck windows Another casket closed as the church choir blows Bitches gon' set you up on a fast trap Niggaz gon' pull up to pull a fast cap Gotta get your - mean green to spend Gotta get your mean green and blow weed my friend To the westside connect with these gangsta threats Commence to represent them compton streets My 44 mag slugs guaranteed to fly (boom boom) The murder i wrote with intent to die To the pen cause i'ma do you in for the killin' Straight to hell and back, big black mack I'm strapped On the daily, compton criminal, crazy just to get a rep Compton 4 death Compton 4 d |
||||||
| 6. |
| 4:46 |
|
|||
| 7. |
| 4:34 |
|
|||
|
In the muthafuckin' house (geah) For the paper Mr tony back in the house regulate y'know i'm sayin' Half ounce hoodlums in the house Geah Deadly decisions is what i'm bringin' Be's the problem solver when my revolver starts singin' A thin line between life and death you're stuck When my mind turns corrupt so i'm mentally fucked I be bringin' the pain like meth Inject the meth in your vain you're seeing thangs insane Hollow points start to spit Regulate your block no bullshit Bust a u-turn the tyres burn rubber g Retaliation of the robberies after me No aftermath Instead the bloodbath keep steerin' the b.g.'s on the west path Chest blast Buckshots touch yo' whole side N 2 deep no sleep when we ride claim that west gang Always the side of ridahs Gang of arms out the windows is if we responds Homicides: points chalked up for the victory Y'all know it's compton 4 life, ain't no killin' me Chorus: (x2) For years we've been accustomed to serves the fiends On the streets keeps the works stuffed away in jeans Bitches and niggas do damnest things Buck buck for the paper by any meanz... I needs cheese no bullshit you better know it If it's a contest to be the greediest i'ma show it It's all for the scrilla Divine, cristal, no wine, top biller Seven digits is the destiny Don't let the feds, the clock-heads get the best of me You know who got it, heavyweight No sacks premium shit Bitches beg mr. tony: you just don't quit! Cash flows to make fat flips since '86 Where the cash connects western union through mix Hoes got the pick up straight |
||||||
| 8. |
| 4:09 |
|
|||
|
Yo Geah Yo Half Ounce in the house, what? Check it out, check it out Don't be comin' around my way with that tough guy shit Only West Side allowed and we won't get hit, geah We got the ho's locked down Half Ounce in the house It's like this Mon Diggi Yo Stick 'em [MON-DIGGI] My visions outta focus cause I lit the hocus-pocus All I'm leavin' for you vultures is a couple of cockroaches Mon-Diggi split your wiggy - probably incidental When I rape your instrumental but we gon' keep that confidential I really can keep a secret but you tellin' lies Hesitant to represent You like a bitch in disguise Talkin' about you need a trend so you can wet the tough guyz And suspense is your evidence, lay it to scuff guys Must I - do the cappin', I would love to keep rappin' But I heard you always packin' and bitch-made when it come to scrappin' Mon-D, sinister M.C. is X-fac'in' Lookin' for your captain so I can smack and P.D. wack him My tactics are more than just bad bitches and back Shiiit, Jackie Chan would fuck around and get his ass blasted Stupid bastard - Diggi blessed the session Niggas in my section are lookin' for some new direction [EIHT] Don't be comin' around my way with that tough guy shit Only West Side allowed and we won't get hit We gots the ho's locked down from town to town And we keep on payin', don't give a fuck what you sayin' Don't be comin' around my way with that tough guy shit Only West Side allowed and we won't get hit We gots the ho's locked down from town to town And we keep on playin', so fuck what you sayin', geah -a |
||||||
| 9. |
| 4:12 |
|
|||
|
Geah My nigga Muggs in the house Who keeps you humpin' Eihthype keeps you thumpin' Always into somethin' Westside got it going on Westside got it going on Who creeps in smooth with moves like Gotti Trips to make grips and back to the party Million dollar holler with the Jazzy Belles 97 makes moves with the freaky tales Hold up, stop the presses Floats to the club and show me love in little short dresses From 8 at night till 6 in the morn' Intend to get ?naked?, try to put me on Tick tock, it don't stop, clock keeps tickin' Pour one more and wait for the liquor to kick in Lookin suspicious cause you don't know the game plan To the V.I.P. you peeps the ?three span? Naughty as I wanna be, so check it Drama to the women I perfected to get naked 2 shots of the V.S.O.P. Rmy Converstions as I tugs on your bikini Got to get it, cause I've never had Takes the party back to my pad, color me bad Oops... I swoops up in the Coupe One more pussy to loop, I'm knockin the boots Geah Who got you humpin' Eihthype's always bumpin' Always into somethin' (geah) Westside's got it goin' on Number one desperado, packin the hollows In a nice tight suit with Christy to swallow Who's the role model, bitch butt-naked on the boat 'cross the lake, we skate with the heavy weights Can you feel me? Surfs all night, be rich 500 super sport, low-low's hittin' the switch Gots long dough, fo' sho', cops paid by the month Weekly in the club, gots ho's to hunt Gets mine, nose to the grind, makes cheese Ain't never seen three niggas like these Still gots the connects, pulls china white from |
||||||
| 10. |
| 4:31 |
|
|||
| 11. |
| 4:21 |
|
|||
|
Hey (c'mon) To the full degree (c'mon, geah check it out) (check it out) We 'bout it Gettin' that paper We 'bout it Check it out Federalies gaffling up so keep it tight These songs to do wrong so fuck being right Late nite hype's the fiends Nobody serves 'em better to the letter We gets the chedder To the way back days Where the Half Ounce lays Gun tucked by the nuts As the one time struts Gets my bail on cause I ain't tryin' to get caught around here Be another nigger locked up for the next 10 years No Shapiro, no ?Sapino?, big bambino Roulette spends 20 G's in the casino Hits the blackjack decked in Armani (In a 9-6-5 I'm Clyde, my bitch is Bonnie) Too sweet Better yet too clean, pickin' the paper Takin' you there like the Staples, but they ain't catchin' no vapors You can't see me, nobody I trust Only the Half Ounce smokers get no cheese like us I said do you got paper? Check it out I said we got paper, no doubt uh Get your scrilla anyway you can Floss around town, bitch who's the man... To the days When I used to keeps my stash in the bush Nowadays be clientele with parents that push In my drop top with the laptop keeping up president straight Ok, who gots the pick-up? Bitch touch down at 8 My niggas got the pick-up, the pager starts ringing It's payday, ho's know, that's why they start singing Dollar bills y'all And me throwing away pleas Fools got me too fucked up thinking snaps grow on trees Ain't no government given away free cheese And the bitch going through anything that floss on these D's Better watch out cause t |
||||||
| 12. |
| 3:52 |
|
|||
| 13. |
| 4:05 |
|
|||
|
(Intro) Geah Check it out C'mon, c'mon, hey C'mon, uh I said c'mon, hey (Half Ounce in the house) We're smooth on the West Side (Check it out) Nigga hoes back in the house (Check it out) (Verse 1) Who's got paper? But I shoot boxes Plenty of cash to straight floss from the gate You ain't seem grabs this green Plenty of cream kingpins unsolved the scheme I got my eyes on you Geah, you want to ??? down from here to shoot Got a crew But you stand out Miss thing wish I have X-rated vision to peep the G-strings You know what I mean Keeps the shit real live Benz 'round town in a 3-25 Cheques in your coat and float to the arena ??? taps me on the shoulder, Tony have you seen her? Let my Gators through the snappin' Crystal sippin', drops along, geah baby what's happenin? Hear me, see me I could, uh, be your geenie, any wish comes true Be my boo (Chorus) Anything you want, anything you need Anything you want, anything you need Mr. Tony will deliver til your ??? Diamonds to chronic bud, oh yes indeed Anything you want, anything you need Anything you want, anything you need We's be's the pimps (Verse 2) Independently hustlin' while you work in your stuff Keep your condo pay so you work at MC Gruff 9 TO 5 paper chasing, geah, I can dig it With your 15 hundred dollar brims and your fixed up ??? No trips to the clinic But it straight trips to the club With your head hooked up, short skirts straight throwin' up love Mr Tony know the game ain't playin' nice and soft G's around ya in a circle talkin' about take that shit off Damn n |
||||||
| 14. |
| 4:17 |
|
|||
| 15. |
| 3:50 |
|
|||
|
No camouflage, better get the mirage Soul Assassins squad straight from the garage Benjamin stacks, craps is what I play First dream: where's the cream so I can parlay Ain't no joke - ugh - and no mistakes allowed Crack packs flips, uh, while I moves the crowd Po-po be stoppin' the low-lows, fo' sho' those Hate to see me, too blind like Stevie Greedy cause I'm needy for ash, gas and cash Same song like re-runs of fuckin' M.A.S.H. Boom Bam keeps the stash locked, son, you know the real ?Four punks layin in your bumper?, so you're best to jump Bird thumps the fo' do' S-S, no stress D.A., no deal, uh, no contest False arrest like Al Capone and Elliott Ness You better be protected My barrel starts ejectin Reflectin on your past life as you pass through On your way to your second life, bitch, fuck you When all hell breaks loose When all hell breaks loose Everybody duck down when all hell breaks loose All my niggas gon' shoot when all hell breaks loose (Check it out) Shoot 'em up, oh, shoot 'em up, oh yeah Straps on our laps cause we just don't care Be the stick-up kid Look what I done did One times is hot, so I best stay hid Y'all don't know the story Be a hero and die for the glory Do-re-mi The C.P.T.'s the plantation That's hot and Nigga straight servin' the cotton Equal opportunity, no discriminatin' Serves the china white to whoever is waitin' Ain't no debatin' No player-hatin', son So best to run fast or get shot of the M-1 Watch out for the back stabbers, indeed But the evil takes over, in your eyes is greed I feel it, gotta kill it, the enemy is close-aca |
||||||
| 16. |
| 4:49 |
|
|||
|
Hey C.M.W in the house (rock on) Hubtouchablez in the house (rock on) Geah (hey) Half Ounce in the house, hey (Geah, c'mon, geah) I dips around, sips around 2 o'clock The hammer's backjacked, cocked on the glock Westward bound, stay down To the fools that's gon' bow How you like us now? Steady living by the trigger I toss on nigga Nuthin' on my ass but Tommy Hilfiger Droppin' chronic by the pound Who's teachin' classes? Bitches blowin all day with their naked-asses Checks my spot, better yet, checks my knot Jack to Jill, round the hill, I get the scrill' Better pay me I need the money, so I'm goin' crazy Can I still kill it? You bet! Words float from the tongue to get your panties wet So hop yo' ass in the back seat, let's roof And stick your big ass out the sunroof (chorus) Hubtouchablez as we dips around As we tips through your town straight puttin' it down We them killin' muthafuckas with no regrets Geah, hey I puts it down 'funky enough' like The D.O.C. Maybe you can't see, blind like Stevie That's sick, you blind and you just can't see You need to wear sun-glasses like D.M.C. Cruise around in S.5. classes Sippin' on D.P. in tall glasses Bullet proof vest protects the chest, cause it ain't wettin' Call me Big Daddy Kane, ain't no half steppin' 'Who's got the props? Who's got the props?' The Hubtouchablez is in the house, it don't stop Get moves for that ass Come smooth on that ass But the girls be shaking that ass for the cash Got 'em hangin' loosely Just introduced me Now you t |
||||||
| 17. |
| 3:56 |
|
|||
| 18. |
| 4:40 |
|
|||
|
Brrrr stick 'em hahaha stick 'em... Half ounce one time stick 'em Geah You know how the fuck we do it, c'mon Y'all remember that old school shit, geah Get 'em C'mon Your block is mine bitch back up We run the whole fucking world chips stack up (chin chin) We've been Gettin in where we fit in since the old days L.t.d.'s rode bopping the o'jays Gun place, crime place, one time swoop Strawberries in the back - at the 70's coupe Giving head like a chicken plucked Four niggas one bitch, everybody fucking From selling my Crack on the corner, packing, bailing my straps Got a Million reasons so it be's the killin season, moves the crowd As the bullets hit with no names Connects the dots echos through the ghetto hot Flies like an eagle Becomes the strap by the motherfuckin regal Tinted windows Tyres spin fast up out yo' set Next week right back to see who we can get You want yo' chin checked (ping) Fools just gimme a car We got yo' ass when we see you r.i.p. on the wall The way i'm livin don't give no hail low One times i stay low Want pay no compton, no play no Hit the round when we start blastin Out the back door Before they send the ???? in (get up) We niggas fo' hire Bustin (boom) We bust back (boom), return the fire, get' em Brrrrrrr stick 'em hahaha stick'em... Half ounce one time stick 'em Geah Bails around twelve o'clock Roam my block with the glock Keeps the world nicely stash From neighbourhood watch Walks the rocks Dope fiends makes my pay Late nite hype to fiends so they walk this way 24 is the deliv |
||||||
|
