[Intro: Dirty Red]
Alright players, alright G's
Hustlers, pimps, macks, real n***as and all that
The time has come
And what a time to drop real gangster poetry on that a**
Haha, yeah
Comin' at you from the underworld - the Aftermath
A group of underground lunatics brought together on mission
Of destruction
So all you b**hes and hoes beware, for what lurks beyond in the darkness
Gives true meanin' to the words totally insane
187, mo' motherf**ing murderous homicidal sk**s for you s**ers
Stay down and get that a** clowned
KM.G, the motherf**ing undertaker, the b**h breaker
So hoes if you didn't know, now you do
So that's just the first clue from a n***a on a mission
You see, chronic is way of life, G
So spray a peace to mothers and get bu*ted the f** out
Awww yeah, with dopeness comes a man named Kokane
Influential in amount, believin' in a certain theory
That all players must come correct
Either that or he'll gets no respect
You see, it's all about makin' yours in this life time
So with that said, I would like to introduce one more player in this game
A n***a named Shaki a/k/a the K
A n***a known for breakin' s**as off
So y'all believin' in the theory of elevation
Reason bein', I got the fly, fly sh** for that a**
So here it is players, aww yeah, b**hes too
The fly sh** for you
So tune in and get faded with the Aftermath, n***as
[Hook: Cold 187um & KMG](x2)
Funk them up
Funk 'em up, funk 'em up, from the Westcoast
Funk 'em up, funk 'em up, funk 'em up
Funk 'em up, funk 'em up, from the Eastcoast
Funk 'em up, funk 'em up, funk 'em up
[Verse 1: Cold 187um]
Aw, comin' through the motherf**in' side door
Checkin' all the n***as and clockin' all the hoes
Before you jump up and get wile e' like coyote
You better ask your b**h if she knows me
(ooooohhhhh)
Cause I got two pounds of baking soda and two pounds of coke
I bought her b**h her Baby, some pampers, so I can smoke
(KMG: So you can call them when you want to, baby)
Yah, right, because I've just told you homie the same two nights ago
Or should I say four scores ago
So bow wow, wow, wow, yippi yay, yippi yo, ho
Because to play you is my only wish
Yo, so pa** me the skin so I can rush it like Emmitt Smith
And then I have to count boyd that a**, tore that a**
Pimp that a** and straight funk that a**
I guess you motherf**ers get the clue (what up?)
Something for the cut up, chevy's to hop to "yeah"
I maybe in your Coupé, or Jeep or your Wagon
I maybe makin' dollars but I'm not braggin'
I give my props to my n***as in the penal, see
For tryin' to come up, Gettin' caught up in the system G
It's like a game, never pick'd to win
So I'll see you when you get out if not when I get in (Well, alright)
Cause I'm not a Rodney King Part Two
So I'm a smoke one for me and smoke a gang for you
[Verse 2: KMG]
n***a, n***a, n***a, aww sh**
The ho' gigolo flow quick
So... what's the word?
I've just served a bird to the ho' with the Deuce on the corner
The green eyed hooker with the juice and the toners
The king black macademian Funk bone
Hit the loot stick? quick and fade Al Capone
Let me take my hat off
And peep my Madonna, s** magazine
Freak all the nymphos I'm a p**y fiend
Ooh, Mister Mister, twister twister is what they call me
Then they bore me
Hoes on my Diznick, I'm livin' a revelation
I'm kickin' the real sh**, f** the n***a's reputation (f** it)
Glock to the dome, what up?, I'll straight f** ya'
Or told my n***a Shake, .45 he'll buck ya
Or I'm a trip and bring K-Oss in it
Or my n***a Mack f**in' re-up to Pimp Clinic
So, I'm a ask you a question (what up Loc'?)
Do you wanna die for me? (yeah)
Or do you wanna die for my Kokane that's 17-5 a ki?
[Verse 3: Dirty Red]
Awww yeah, I sit leanin' on my toners when I'm bellin'
Through the crooked streets deep in Cali' where I'm dwellin'
Sellin' mobile dubs cause I gotta make a dolla'
Feelin' drop the top of my rag-trey-Impala
I'm droppin' loco n***a out there doin sharin' dirt
Got two hoes on the corner and they feeling put in work
Now I pimps, though I keeps my pimping on the down low
Too many hoes will get a n***a in some trouble
And so I'm... bumped the three wheel motion
Hit the corner quick, feeling like the Chronic stick
And get higher than a motherfuker
I got a beap fo' the sky pager, trick a** b**h
But just in time so it's off to the next stage
Yeah, picked up my mobile phone, to make a booty call
Creepin' down Crenshaw, watchin' out for the law (yeah, the motherf**ers)
Cause the police quick to put the n***a on the side of the curb
And take a chunk of my bird, G
It leaves a n***a like short
But I ain't wet? them up, I got the dope from the street motherf**ers
[Interlude: Cold 187um]
Aww yeah, The Aftermath
Journey through this Aftermath
Kokane is here
Here goes Kane, check this out
[Verse 4: Kokane]
Now I'm comin' around, comin' around, comin' around the f**in' mountain
Wettin' n***as up like a motherf**in' fountain
So don't clone me, don't get attached
Cause some of you n***as' styles more faker than a Wrestler Match
Added preservatives, artifficial flavors
Baking soda free, said I say a f**in' savior
Give your R&B, house Music, I'll say hell no
Beatin' Donnie Simpson where I be funkin' on the show
Who gives the funk sh** like that? you know it's weak
Cause G sh** came from the concrete
So take a seat in the back jack, known I gots to strap
No longer will there be a white motherf**er dictating what is real rap
You motherf**ing hypocrites
When your a** is used to promoting that heavy metal sh**
To the K to the O to the K to the A, to that's N-E we flowwww
My name is Kokane, never simple the reason Im dope
So Bon Voyage I gots the stack
And I'm out Schwarzeneger but I'll be back
(f** them up)