B.A. - Who Got The Gangsta sh** Pt. II lyrics

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B.A. - Who Got The Gangsta sh** Pt. II lyrics

*(Swoop G talking)* From the city to the Town, and back to LBC You know this type of sh** happens everyday You know it ain't no other state that do it quite like we Cuz this type of sh** happens everyday Verse 1 *(Swoop G)* Now who got the gangsta, gangsta twist? S-W-double O-P-G back on yo list California rollin Choppin up game on Motorolas Tuck the pistola bendin the corner Burnin the doja I done told ya Livin this California street life Make a playa think twice Or get them three strikes An I'm knowin, you knowin that we ain't showin no fear Bangin and watchin the murder rate increase all year Is it true? Do Crips "C", bangin on the Bloods? Or do California got that sticky bomb bud? An bomb foes Pushin Lexo's Wearin fly clothes Fingers full of diamonds Wit diamonds in they nose An brown hair No derri're Sexy underwear An I'm knowin Cuz panty lines showin as I stare An all year Damn you makin love at first sight Baby you make a thug wanna love you tonight Verse 2 *(JT The Bigga Figga)* We got the situation We facin wit steady concentration Double six-duece produce So hear my gangstas conversate Hardtimer, we climbin, findin reasons Crossin bridges for capers And then there's papers needed I feel they cheated You leaded up out the viles wit multiple sacks, of dinero's Changin license plates on Yukon's And old Camero's Until they knocked my plug at DMV Had my P.O. in the Bauer give 'em all of me I'm a see In Long Beach tucked under Gettin my perve on for the whole f**in summer From the Bay to L.A We showin nuthin but love Wit round trip tickets wit Swoop G an big Gov Verse 3 *(Swoop G)* Gov you hit 'em up high JT an I hit 'em low Break 'em down to the lowest compound possible It ain't no stoppin When we droppin It's destined to hit the top Mashin for the Mobb Takin over this hip-hop Droppin hits to audiences Who's havin a fit Cuz they know the G's comin wit that gangsta twist An they love it Ain't nothin to it, but to do it I was born in Long Beach I'm a stay true to it Like a soldier Baby watch me show ya, I ain't a punk Roll the window down cover my strap then dump Verse 4 *(JT Tha Bigga Figga)* Bump, bump Hit 'em wit somethin heavy make they chest jump, jump B.A. they ain't ready for the funk Verse 5 *(Bart)* It's the Mobb We don't bang But we roll wit hittas Peep the sickess I be the lyrical serpent that bit ya How could ya figure We ain't right Mobbin to the fullest So I break you back to the regular Ain't no competitors to us Who'd a knew us Flossin recruiters from Oakland, to Houston It's S-W-double O that be starrin your every movement Through the music We stack chips and break bread Keep it listenin I wreck yo set in every city Verse 6 *(Swoop G)* Now you don't see what I see 6 keys for a hundred g's I take a look in the mirror See myself livin the dream Takin over things, runnin million dolla schemes I got a vault safe That's full of hundred dolla stacks an all So I got sumpthin that'll lay you on yo back On the reala Slidin through the city and the Town Ain't no other way, but the way we put it down *(Chorus- Swoop G)* x2 From the city to the Town And back to LBC You know it ain't no other state that do it quite like we Who me young Swoop And JT Tha Bigga Figga Ridin down Mashin wit the Gov young n***a

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