C-Bo

No Pain No Gain

C-Bo


featuring Lunasicc Laroo 

Now it's on flip me at '7 8 Coupe 
Reds hydraulics duece representin the do 
and you can trip if ya wanna but boy you be's a goner 
Leavin bloody footprints from Sacramento to Palmona 
I'm a dog when it come to this gangsta shit 
A young hog from the block and never shrank to fit 
Roll with the Hoovers and the E C's avalon watchin L B's 
Compton Track New Park the S P C's 
Bakersfield, Fresno, Seven Trees 
Duece nine outlies N-S-G's 
My Bgz got to trippin when the homey got soaked 
when they heard about the shootout that *?I so?* called for Bo-Loc 
As I ride, ride til I die 
Best to hide, nigga, when I hit your block 
I bring death on the suckers when my Glock is cocked 
I got hops in my Coupe, a pocket full of loot 
and it don't matter who start to funk when you're ridin with the do 
We just handle that shit like the locs that we is 
Hit them niggas quick, fuck the bitches and the kids 
Split wigs, watch graves get digged 
Representin to the fullest, Guard Block Crib 
Niggas wanna trip, well eat hollow tips 
Never could you hang with my gang, no pain, no gain 

Chorus: 

Hoo-ride, mass slaughter, murder 
Madmen, deadliest lyrical server 
There is no higher, they gets no curver 
Get em up close range, empty fullies and get further 
*repeat* 

Who got that gangsta, gangsta shit? 
It be the niggas who got the biggest nuts and the gat that packs the 
fullest clip 
Gotta have more chips than a grab bag full of Doritos 
Keep your bitch broken, make sure your pockets stay full of C-notes 
Hardcore gangsta, fillin out a 20 year old nut 
Gotta keep composure, puffin doja and it got me stuck 
I'm down your strip, hopin I can pull a lick 
Got an extra clip in case I have to zip a nigga's lip 
Oh yes, my Dayna's look quite lovely 
Pull up on your bitch's pit while you and your crew try to mug me 
Huffin and puffin like, daddy 
Gotcha ridin out eight-deep in your '96 Caddy 
You tried to fuck but could do nothin but make my dick hard 
You tried to dump so I had to creep and pull your whole card 
Ya best respect or get checked by the Smith & Wess 
Fuck a vest, hollows hit harder than a math test 

Chorus 

I never stop bringin pain, it's difficult for haters 
Never spit game, the same speakers are our greatest 
Make ya take your last breath, fuck it, where my payment? 
I'm blazin up doja, this soldier regulate your statement 
Some niggas is bangin, some niggas' just about the cash 
Some flatline snitches miss me, look up on ass 
I avoid the drama, tricks never to be toy with 
Get as high as you want, irrelevant who you fuck with 
Eight off, ran from the lead, cock the buck shit 
You're whole mouthpiece spillin discharge, to verify we hit hard 
Women do these timbos 
Mind style missions, puttin the mashdown on nymphos 
My son, labelled the Funky Nigga, plugs wit everybody 
that's sittin on dividends, we filin down fully pants 
Rapidly goin down, ain't comin back around 
Release rounds, just terrorize your town 

Chorus