Cold 187um - Aftermath lyrics

[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)