C-Bo

Boo Yow

C-Bo


We like to murder in combat war on the streets 
.4 5 Glock 40's on sight to see 
Me and the homies run deep like a wild pack of wolves 
Attack like the Congo's when niggas talk bull 
Better step and get further before them hollow tips spit 
The Vulcan automatic with the Vulcan death grip 
Walk the strip and still tote see four in the tip 
and explode on Kryptonite chronic blunts when we dip 
Chorus: 
And I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! 
Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now? 
I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! 
Take your whole motherfuckin crew out 
I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! 
Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now? 
I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! 
Take your whole motherfuckin crew out 
Now step into my zone, we can get it on 
Roll a coupe, not a chrome, fuck a sack, I wanna zone 
Stay blown on the strip, all switches away from dips 
Next to the mack and the lil' homey talkin shit 
He quick to blast on that ass, blood puddles in the grass 
I thought "Make sure he dead, come back and then we smash 
witta .4-5 automatic slug in his windpipe 
Ain't no love, for a thug livin one life 
We split wigs back like afro picks 
Flagged up, ain't your momma's style when we dip 
Young hogs creepin thru the fog 
Ready for combat, just me and my dogg 
Fuck y'all, other niggas all on my dick 
For the money and bitches ain't really down to do shit 
Another lyrical cap into your cranium 
We known to blow shit up like nuclear uranium 
Chorus 
I explode like a nuclear warhead, wit this lyrical gang 
that I slang like cocaine, makin the crowd bang 
As we kick up more dust than a pick-up 
Assaults, murders, and armoured truck stick-up 
Cos ain't too many niggas that can fuck with these 
Gz, pumpin and dumpin them ridahs on fo' D's 
Wit a fo'-fo', quote I give, "busters are jokes" 
and watch the concrete smack him in his face when he smokes 
Fo' sure, I'm known like the Boyz N' The Hood 
A Menace II Society knows it's tryin me, best to knock on some wood 
I bring it back to the good hooks, wish that they could fuck wit this 
lyrical microphone assassination hood spittin 
.45 hollow point chips at'cha chest 
The grinders penetrate a vest in the wild, wild West 
So break north, south or east, retreat and meet defeat 
It's West Coast, ready for combat, strapped wit heat 
Chorus