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(feat. Kurupt, Lady Of Rage, RBX, Snoop Doggy D) |
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[Intro: Bushwick Bill] |
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Yes, it is I says me |
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And although me |
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By morning three, cause they're weak |
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[laughter] |
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Yes, yo!, I'm in the house now for sure |
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Because I wanna talk about the hearts of men |
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Who knows what evil lurks within them |
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But lets take a travel down the blindside |
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And see what we find on this. |
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Path. |
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Called. |
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[Verse One: Kurupt] |
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Stranded on Death Row, so duck when I swing my shit |
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I get rugged like Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits |
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The gangsta type, what I recite's kinda lethal |
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Niggaz know, the flow that I kick, there's no refill |
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I'm murderin niggaz, Yo, and maybe because of the tone |
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I kicks my grip, the mic and kick shit |
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Niggaz can't fuck with |
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So remember I go hardcore, and slam |
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Nuff respect like a sensei, ba-bash like Van Damme |
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So any nigga that claim they bossin |
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What don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson |
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Take a walk through the hood, and we up to no good |
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Slangin on things like a real ho |
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G should, I'm stackin and mackin and packin a ten so |
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When you're slippin, I slip the clip in |
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But ain't no steady tripppin |
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Cause it's Death Row, rollin like the mafia |
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Think about whoopin some ass, but what the fuck stoppin ya |
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Ain't nathin but a buster |
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I'm Stranded on Death Row for pumpin slugs in motherfuckers |
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Now you know you're outdone |
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Feel the shotgun, Korrupt inmate cell block one |
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[Verse Two: RBX] |
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No prevention from this mention of sorts |
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Your're a victim, from my driveby of thoughts |
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No extensions, all attempts are to fail |
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Blinded by the light, it's time you learn braile |
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From the lunatic, I death like arsenic |
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When I kick up wicked raps |
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That the grain will hit the scratch |
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With treachery, my literary form will blast |
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And totally surpass the norm |
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Not a storm, plural, make it, many storms |
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When I'm vexed, I fly leg necks and arms |
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In this dimension, I'm the presenter |
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And the inventor, and the tormentor |
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Deranged, like the hillside strangler |
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MC mangler, tough like Wrangler |
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I write a rhyme, hard as concrete |
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Step to the heat and get burned like mesquite |
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So what you wanna do |
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The narrator RBX, cell block two |
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[Verse Three: Lady of Rage] |
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Rage, lyrical murderer |
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Stranded on Death Row |
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And now I'm servin a lifetime sentence |
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There'll be no repentence |
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Since it's the life that I choose to lead |
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I plead guilty |
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On all counts let the ball bounce where it may |
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It's just another clip into my AK |
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Buck em down with my underground tactics |
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Facts and stacks of clips on my matress |
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Bed frame there's another dead pain |
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Layin lain with the shame, who's to blame |
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Me, the lady of Rage |
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On when I'm comin from the D-E-A-T-H in |
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R-O-W takin, no shit |
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So flip and you're bound to get dropped |
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It's 187 on motherfuckers don't stop |
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Handcuffed as I bust there'll be no debate |
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It's Rage, from cell block eight |
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[Verse Four: Snoop Doggy Dogg] |
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And yo steppin through the fog |
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And creepin through the smog |
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It's the number one nigga from the hood, Doggy Dogg |
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Makin videos, now I stay in Hollywood |
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Bustin raps for my snaps now they call me Eastwood |
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Dre is the doctor and my homey little nigga |
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Warren G is my hand and my hand's on the trigga |
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Shootin at the hoes with the game that I got |
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Sent to death row cause I wanted to make a quick one servin my rocks |
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And I'm still, servin for mines, peace |
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To my motherfuckin homies doin time |
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In the pen and the county jail |
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Mobbin with your blues on, mad as hell |
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And you say yeah fuck the police |
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And all the homies on the streets is all about peace |
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And it's drivin the cops crazy |
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But ain't nuttin but a black thing bay-bee, uhhh |
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No I'm not flaggin, but I'm just saggin |
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I betcha don't wanna see the D-O double G |
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And you can't see, the D-R to the E |
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Or my motherfuckin homey D.O.C. |
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You know you can't fuck with my motherfuckin DJ |
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That's my homey and we call him Warren G |
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Yeah, and you don't stop |
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Doggy Dogg break em down with the motherfuckin Dogg Pound |
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That's the only way we'll beat em man |
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We gotta smoke em, then choke em |
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Like the motherfuckin peter man |
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It's like three and to the two |
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And two and to the one |
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Cell block four peace Doggy Dogg's done |
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[Outro : Bushwick Bill] |
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Yo, now you know the path I'm on |
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You think you're strong, see if you can travel on |
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Cause only the weak, will try to speak |
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Those who are quiet, will always cause riots |
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There's three types of people in the world |
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Those who don't know what happened |
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Those who wonder what happened |
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And people like us from the streets that MAKE things happen! |
