Laroo - No Pain, No Gain lyrics

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 sh** 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, n***a, when I hit your block I bring d**h on the s**ers when my Glock is co*ked 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 sh** like the locs that we is Hit them n***as quick, f** the b**hes and the kids Split wigs, watch graves get digged Representin to the fullest, Guard Block Crib n***as wanna trip, well eat hollow tips Never could you hang with my gang, no pain, no gain Chorus: Hoo-ride, ma** 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 sh**? It be the n***as 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 b**h 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 n***a's lip Oh yes, my Dayna's look quite lovely Pull up on your b**h'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 f** 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 f** 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, f** it, where my payment? I'm blazin up doja, this soldier regulate your statement Some n***as is bangin, some n***as' just about the cash Some flatline snitches miss me, look up on a** I avoid the drama, tricks never to be toy with Get as high as you want, irrelevant who you f** with Eight off, ran from the lead, co*k the buck sh** 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 n***a, 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