feat. Spice 1, Yukmouth
[Talking - C-Bo]
First off we the mutha f**in Thug Lords
Now for all you n***as bangin, that mutha f**in West Coast like n***a?
YouknowhatI'msayin? And fa sho no lie
29th Street Crip Gang n***a, C-Bo holdin nothin back
Yukmouth, Spice 1 and we do it live, for the world it's still f** off
You know what and we in that you knowhatI'msayin?
And this how we handle business, n***a
From the early 80's to these 2 G's, boy
[C-Bo]
Huh, We blaze em up with AK's, double my clip and we dip
Set trip and get hit, flip Crip or get zipped
Run with the Crips, catch me clumsy in the 6
6 rag invertable slide divertable, murder ya
Dead and gone never heard of ya
Now we stuffin lead in the crome, bout to hurt ya
Pack ya down in the earth, we put work in like Mad Dirt
Odainers twistin like the revolver or the earth
f** church, it's a must I burst and curse
Yeah I'm a West Coast Bad Boy but a thousand times worst
Dime piece, gun in her purse, one in her skirt
Cross me, bet ya life that my b**h burst
Got me lockin down the world for the North Pole
Too cold to hold lyrics froze my wrist and my hoes
Number one Thug Lord, f** wit us!
I won't lie the whole world gonna rush wit us, tell em
[Chorus - Yukmouth and Spice 1]
Thug Lord n***as boss up and don't stop
Thugged out n***as boss up and don't stop
Thug Lord n***as boss up and don't stop
Thugged out n***as boss up and don't stop
Blow! Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bang
Spice, Yuk and Bo we do the damn thang
Blow! Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bang
Thug Lord n***as we do the damn thang
[Spice 1]
n***a you listenin to the B-O-S-S-I-L-I-N-I
Yukmouth and C-Bo you know they label us born to die
But I pistol slap you and two n***as like 3 Stooges
Walk over to the bar and sip on Gin and juice
It's just the gangster in me, the thug in me
Mug in me and get yo fro pushed back like homie
You lil clown a** n***a walkin in bozo shoes
While my n***as out here doin hits, makin the news
What you think you gon' dodge these bullets like Matrix?
Like a condom, I even lay teck on a b**h
Now that's some cold sh**, a low lick, a cold hit
Leave a n***a at a funeral cryin with no b**h
Some Thug Lord sh** n***a shoot up ya coffin
n***as cross game get murdered by bosses
Cost's yo mutha f**in life when you play with the rules
They got a n-uh-n***a still singin the blues