South Central Cartel - Funk U Up lyrics

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South Central Cartel - Funk U Up lyrics

(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get down) (Wessyde) [VERSE 1: Havikk the Rhime Son] I'm posted up in a Cutla**, hoo-bangin in a bucket Hennessy got a n***a mind shifted, so f** it Told you muthaf**as we was back droppin amity Riders on deck, Chuck T's my calamity Servin any n***as tryin to dip on them whips 100 spokes gold thangs so I bangs with the clip Out of the cut like a [?] I slides like a Klingon [?] hit the switch and leave that a** froze like freon It's them mad-a** Cartel gangsters Throwin bolos so f** what Bo knows cause I'ma bank ya Put your a** on some crutches Stackin ends like the Dutches Counterreact for the attack like Marcus Allen rushes It's that Westside rider Rhime Son, like that In a 'burban still swervin sippin on a cognac With my tag team, Prode'je, n***a, you couldn't f** with the realest We get in that a** like Bruce Willis b**h (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Westside (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Eastside rider (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Yeah (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) n***a (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Peep game (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Well, sit your punk-a** down (..down) Eastside rider [VERSE 2: Prode'je] Predatory like the Terminator, mo' game than Sega How many muthaf**as wanna step to this omega Supreme, the .44 co*ked for the cream I fiend for the green so the gee's on the scene My diamond's in the back but your diamond's in my pocket I knock your jaws loose flyin things like a rocket You couldn't stop it cause 6-4's, yeah, we drops it Comin for your (? ) slingin muthaf**in toxic n***as never loc unless you worry S.C. Cause many muthaf**as I can bury O.G. But when you close your eyes it's the gees comin atcha Khakis, Chuck T's, Beefy-Tee's, I'ma gatcha Steady dippin, things whippin, am I crippin n***as hate a player so the playa-hatas trippin When the Rhime Son ridin shotgun n***as see the blues And we don't give a f** about yo crews (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Eastside rider (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Wessyde (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Haha (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Geah (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) 1996 (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Sit yo a** down (...down) Cartel riders [VERSE 3: Rhime Son] I'm dippin back to the hood ragged up too deep Extended clips, hollow tips, Murder Squad don't sleep I'm terrorizin a terroist, f** Hussein and his posse Expanded flows, hot .44's, khaki saggin, f** a Nazi I'm mobbin block to block, chronic got a n***a on twist I gets deeper than the d**h, so muthaf** the _Abyss_ It's the S.C. O.G. (Who I be?) H-a-v 96 in your sh**, Rhime Son and Prode'je [Prode'je] Cause we be swingin 17, makin muthaf**as over Comin through your hoods like a muthaf**in soldier Gangsta rap is over, muthaf**as, how you figure? Cause bein anti-gee is like bein anti-n***a They try to put to bed but the gee is never sleepin I'm down with TLC cause the n***a sho' creepin The chronic flows, as it grows you'se a witness So sit the f** down and let the gees handle business (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Westside (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Eastside rider (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Yeah (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) n***a (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Busters (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Sit your punk-a** down (..down) n***a right Westside and Eastside on a mission, n***a 199-c-c, muthaf**as South Central Cartel beatin yo a** since '91 And it don't stop Never that, never that, n***a 199... to infinity Prode'je and Rhime Son, fool