the blood of my blade, no love, begin the flood Open the gates, let the battle begin, wherein With wind at our backs, ready for any attacks Sound the horns
soon as I reloads my mag' *reloads mag* *car horns throughout* Stuck in heavy traffic... Nigga It's All Bad! Chorus: WC w/ cops *car horns and helicopter sounds
you can form Slap up a cop and then snatch him out of his uniform Leave him with his socks, hard bottoms and bloomers on And hang him by his balls from the horn
of twenty five But I am still alive I was a sailor, I was born upon the tide With the sea I did abide I sailed a schooner 'round the Horn to Mexico
mornin' to mornn Me I walk home on the same dirty streets where I was born Up the block I can hear my little sister in the front seat blowin' that horn The sounds
cadillac pulled up ahead of the ford, The ford got hot and wouldn't do no more. It then got clody and it started to rain, I tooted my horn for a passin
my coat up Ah I'm goin be here for a while so I smile hatas I'm on that green like a flower like a alligator Now or laters, I'm serving niggas Imma sound
July There was not a cloud to speak of So the orange sun hung lonely in the sky I lay prone in my catboat home Thinking of fine nappy Jackie and his jazz cat's horn
be shy But Shock G, come and reminisce with Shorty B You know that I was born one of the Funkentelechy Humpty-Hump and the Horny Horns why don't you
sunglasses So you can feel cool, gangster lean, y'all should dig my sunroof top Well, alright, hey I was diggin' on y'all funk for a while Sounds like
wannabe hustlers tough until they standin in front of me duckin It's off with yo' head nigga 'less you one of them Dodgers We sound off as one, we gun harmonize! [vocal gun sounds
hands with your father while I'm fuckin' yo momma Drama But I'ma say I'm in a league of my own Blowin' my own horn Horns of my cousin, Chevy in Texas
, can't change the coordinates On course threatened by force, passed the limit Mutilate the meak, terrorize the timid Murder in a minute then it's mission accomplished Corner
us Yeah, deeps pon the streets I reach, be the sound A pouch full of ouch, soon the freaks is freakin out, uhh Threes that make you shout, 'bout, ruckus on the corner
I rise from the ground into sound Melting browns drip like wax Building blocks, nappy cat Blazes acts, filling facts Mental sax, sweet mental sax Sweet mental horn
and rugged Rugged and raw For you and yours For you and yours Yo yo, I I think I wanna taste these horns I want you to taste these horns, c'mon now
Gonna, gonna, gonna, gonna Gonna blaze the cold rock stuff Yo, with all due respect Not trynna toot my own horn or nothing But, I'm pretty good at this
back to Marvin Gaye's, 'Let's Get it On' Don't get it wrong, give it a thong, she put it on, in uniform Sippin' Don Periogne, Shawn Don, fillet mignon Long horns