Yeah
What’s happening
It’s your motherfucking boy
Low Profizile here every dizay
Straight up Bout to get with some of these bitch ass niggas out here
Check shit out, so check shit out
You thought I was gone, but no I’m back again
Big June nigga, all up inside your motherfucking shit hole with a mack 10
Cheeks all up on my fucking barrel, I know you’re scared
All possing like a manequin, not moving like a scarecrow
Yeah, mister buster, that’s what the fuck you is All up inside my Goddamn bizz, just like little kids
And first time I seen ya, eyes black like my shirt
Steadly getting hurt, but talking about you putting in work
Boy you better quit talking all of that shit
Your punk ass’ll get lit fucking with my 380 clip
It’s eight o’clock and I’m on another one of those missions
Letting my nina sing like New Edition when I catch em slipping
Be specific, J to the A-Y-O
Come to tussle, he’ll be getting slung like Yayo
Now bow down, to this young original nigga that’s not landing
And I’m be high up in the sky and still leaving you busters not standing
But Goddamnit, big ass nigga you be swanging like that
Banging like that, all I know is I wanna be hanging like that
But oh no, I like bitches and I know bitch made niggas
It’s Killafornia, so you better go back to where the fuck you from nigga
From the Eastside, to the Southeastside
Fool you can’t fuck with the real motherfuckers
From the Eastside, to the West Coast side
Fool you can’t fuck with fools worldwide
From the Eastside, to the Southeastside
Fool you can’t fuck with the real motherfuckers
From the Eastside, to the Southeastside
Real motherfuckers are down to ride
It’s the motherfucking Royal ready to go, duck
Giving a fuck about what you think, better believe you can get stuck
Yeah, I’m laying back in my '64 Chevy
Motherfuckers envy, acting like they met me So let me, set the motherfucker straight, trying to player hate
But you could never take the shit that I make
You ain’t the only motherfuckers that can flip while you’re tripping
Watch your loaded gat and I’ma catch you slipping
I got my grip on the weapon
Yapping like a puta, let me see you do the stepping
Now, to all of the motherfuckers who saying they wanna battle
I be capping and making em run, here I come with my double-barrel shotgun
Watch you run like the bitch that you be Standing right behind you but you still can’t see the G I buck one to your motherfucking chest
Royal be the vato that layed em all to fucking rest
It’s the Southern Califas bandit
Leaving fools stranded with a semi-automatic
Goddamnit, see me in my four hitting switches
Killing all the static and dismissing all them punk bitches
It’s the Shadow coming to get you
Better believe that I won’t forget you, let you
Be the one that be yapping, mothers are asking how did it happen
Why did it have to be my son, the one that be laying in the slum
I said your boy was talking shit and then the puto tried to run
For one, the vato had no love in the 619
Lying about his life and how he did so many crimes
Second of all he was nothing but a phony, didn’t know me And he told me some much shit that wasn’t true about my homey
Only real motherfuckers will survive and never die
Gotta sin to stay alive, everyday and everynight
Gotta be careful with these devils
Come up to me and you’ll meet my barrels
Bunch of enemy motherfuckers coming to shake me like a rattle
Cuz one mistake is all it takes
Is one shady motherfuck that’ll use his evil ways
Right away you gotta dismiss em, death when I come and kiss em So load up the fucking clip and make sure that you don’t miss em Remenicing what I say cuz everyday it is the same
There’s a bitch made bitch in every hood in every state
So I say fuck a friend, motherfuck having a dog
Trust nobody but yourself, follow me and trust in God
South to the North, Brown, represent the Trece
Cholos, chalitos, chutos, and eses
I’m ready, so spark up the mota
Much love to my clicka but no love for a solca
South to the North, Brown, represent the Trece
Cholos, chalitos, chutos, and eses
I’m ready, so spark up the mota
Much love to my clicka but no love for a solca
South to the North, Brown, represent the Trece
Cholos, chalitos, chutos, and eses
I’m ready, so spark up the mota
Much love to my clicka but no love for a solca
South to the North, Brown, represent the Trece
Cholos, chalitos, chutos, and eses
I’m ready, so spark up the mota
Much love to my clicka but no love for a solca