Lamont Hyde - Str-8 Gone lyrics

Haa Woo Dedicated to the up city Straight West Coast n***a, ain't no pity Put holes in n***as, real pretty Real sh**ty like a black Frank Nitty I give d** to the thugs price-free Handed down the game by that n***a Ice-T No doubt players like me Recognise the great King Tee, about twenty grand a ki Ah, that's that G sh**, no doubt about that Statutory lyrics is how I rape the rap And get your n***as off my back And no, GOD, ya don't pull a strap, cos (*gun shot*) fu*k THAT! I'm very precise when I shoot Straight out the roof of my Lexus coupe Ya wanna blame Tha Alkaholik group But, naw, that n***a Tela must've hit the loot Cos he's actin real loonie And I don't give a f** cause I'm drunk and I'm a G like Spoonie The hoodrats wanna do me So if you've got'cha county cheque give it to me Chorus: Now baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh** Ain't f**in with nothin but them platinum hits And the two dog groan, a 50 gat to your dome That n***a on the mic str-8 gone *repeat* Huh, so I guess I earned the title 'OG' Been down for ten years, this my fifth Lp I'mma get this one easy A real motherf**in G, R-rock Tee Now all these fools talkin 'bout they some k**ers Car stealers, big time drug dealers b**h a** n***as keep it real, don't lie You ain't k**in sh** and they gon' let sh** die You ask "Who the hell am I?" They call me 'Big Bone' and on my worst night I fades em all And I come thru ya hood like a locc a** G Rip any fool that calls hisself an MC It's only one way, let's have gun play I make it play, n***a, f** what you got to say I got a mad crew of murderers, ex-burglars Puttin soft n***as outta service Chorus: Now baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh** Ain't f**in with nothin but them platinum hits And the two dog groan, all the f**in chips blown That n***a on the mic str-8 gone Baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh** Ain't f**in with nothin but them platinum hits And the two dog groan, sittin on chrome That n***a on the mic str-8 gone My whole crew lives illegal Strapped with the bulletproof vest in the front and back Regal Smokin that sticky green gra** Hittin switches, bumpin on cuts from the past We smoke leaf cos we live like G's Super-soft n***as become enemies I hit a lick on the East for ten ki's Now everything I drive is on Deez I'mma make you believe, I gotta put it down like a real n***a should My dope spot in every n***a's hood I don't waste time, I need to get what's mine Fourteen shells from behind Leave you in the blind, str-8 paralysed from ya spine A partner of organised crime Ya hear it all the time but now ya gotta hear it from the truth Til my n***a Karl Phat's respect due Chorus: Now baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh** Ain't f**in with nothin but them platinum hits And the two dog groan, 50 gat to the dome That n***a on the mic str-8 gone (repeat 4X) And I'm gone