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strap on the side (street remix) - spice 1 lyrics

[chorus]
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
(got a strap on the side, got a strap on the side)
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(got a strap on the side, got a strap on the side)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
(got a strap on the side, got a strap on the side)
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(got a strap on the side, got a strap on the side)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
(got a strap on the side, got a strap on the side)
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
(got a strap on the side, got a strap on the side)

[verse 1]
broke ’em down with the clip and a trigger
screamin’ like eiht, yelling, “come on, n*ggas”
nappy head motherf*ckers in a coupe de ville
lightin’ sh*t up like fire marshal bill
you see i hops on the flow like my n*gga domino
and get a big fat sack of yay*ay
a ki or a half, a motherf*ckin’ thang
pistol whip a n*gga with a ak*ay
peep this, la*di*da*di, i shot up his body
left his ass bl**dy in the front of the party
yeah, a y*a*young n*gga rollin’ up out the cut
do a drive*by with the feds on my nuts
n*ggas be gettin’ gatted when they step to this g, see
i pulls my motherf*ckin’ uzi
and spill his brains (spill his brains), spill his brains (spill his brains)
spill his brains in his motherf*ckin’ lap
i pulls a jack (pulls a jack), pulls a jack (pulls a jack)
and shoot the heart out his motherf*ckin’ back
i come from 187, not with that ho sh*t
so n*gga, spark up the bomb so we can blow sh*t (blow sh*t)
[chorus]
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g

[verse 2]
comin’ up at they ass like tales of the crypt, and
uz’ thing swallow that ass like lipton, n*gga
and now they try to wonder and figure
how the f*ck charles manson turned himself to a n*gga
b*uh*blast on they ass with the holes in the barrel
bullets fly in they chest like a motherf*ckin’ sparrow
’cause we get like stephen king, bodies swing from my ceiling
opens up your chest when it’s time for the cap peelin’
‘9*4, in the door with a fat gat
comin’ like this, break ’em down like that
the n*gga with the plats and a fat crack sack
po*pos on my back, blow they ass off the map
with the 1*8*7, madman k!ller
spill a n*gga guts for the f*ck, ’cause i be—

[chorus]
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side of me
(peace to my motherf*ckin’ 9)
don’t f*ck with the east bay g
[verse 3]
it goes one for the treble but you don’t wanna floss
unless you wanna flex with my b*tch nina ross
g*uh*gat that ass with the double deuce derringer
from the bay area, the pall burier
six n*ggas carry ya, mama in hysteria
walk up to your motherf*ckin’ coffin and i stare at ya
’cause you’s a dead motherf*cker, black
and you never shoulda f*cked with the 187 fac
so knick knack paddy wack, give a g a gat
and put some bullets in that ass crack, yeah
break ’em down with the mac
and like john madden ’93, boom, he’s on his back
spice 1 is a motherf*ckin’ trooper
so say “what up” to the east bay freddy krueger
blow the head off a motherf*ckin’ cow
when my gat go off like a m*1000
take the hood off your hooptie when i bust a cap
rolling with my motherf*ckin’ strap on the side

- spice 1 lyrics

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