Big Gangsta

C-Bo

Compositor: C-BO

[Featuring Laroo Lil' Bo The Mob Figgas]
I see so many murders in these Cali streets
I load the strap in the battle won wit death to get beat who ever
thinks
of defeat?
When in ??? ??? I keep my eyes on the prize
Cos ain't nobody killin me I be the Big Gangsta
>From up North no pain no gain
Nigga fuck the fame slide the chips and serve caine
Cos I'ma pack a pistol til' I die bitch and fuck you pigs
that got me down on that hitlist, I know you're followin me
You're round in my 500
but I commence to shake you piggies while I'm gettin blunted
My nigga 2PAC died and now you hoes is hunted
I give a fuck, I'll buck you down and stare, whatever you're comin
I gun em down like a chump bitch, and leave em neckless, front seat
like a stamp, bitch, run up and load another clip
and then I vamp, bitch, this gangbang mentality be havin me amped
I like to smoke bomb-ator, mean and rush a hater
Put a rush in gators, shoulda seen when I sprayed her
Live fast, die early, no heart, no glory
25 with a L cos the judge couldn't feel my story
Oh no, not me, I got kids to feed
Shoot my way out any situation til' death do me
Part from the streets, it's mandatory, got packet ???
And I jack it, it's major dope when I rap it
Chorus:
I'm all in for the paper, big bases I chases
I keep a Glock on the side of my hip when in unfamiliar places
I stay ready for ridahs, see I know how they think
It ain't no killin me before I dump caps in they bod-ies
We be the Big Gangsta, think quick, like karate
smash all the pranksters, makin hits like a Got-ti
Drink nuttin but the best, X-O, Hennessey
And when I dies, an outlaw ridah is how they remember me
I bounce into the club, drunk and seein doubles
That's why I got twin Glocks so I can bust both of them bubbles
You're runnin from the rumble, this sound is terrifyin
You're hearin death callin, now you're scared to die
Prepare for the annihi-lation of player-hation
You're calicos is blazin, never known for grazin, I'm shot but it's
amazin
Butts haulin on the pavement, holy mother, place him in a casket
Murderin all them bastards
Loc'd on in, sex, from ??? ??? sack ??? ??? that's major
Pain, that 50 calibre and nothin
That's when we spark that wing that park, y'know the deal, shot stop
Everybody drop and watch the Bourbon Bill
You was fuckin with some true, soldiers
So when the tides had turned, you started snitchin to them rollers
You got fucked in a bad situation
My thugs got the L but the po-po's didn't know the situation
Chorus
I'm at the peak of my age when niggas, test, hack onto bullets
thru your vest, and if your funks real-ly, I'm about to cut you ???
???
Invest, this game that I be givin, I'm tryin to heal your soul
So we can all be known for that dough in *?rotty's vault?*
But if they wanna doublecross, we can do that too
Take em out the trunk, fully cocked wit two Glocks
Extendo clip, infrared light, put these vest on our chests
Murder, death, kill em, oh yes
Investiagtion on them Mob Figgas, no perpetration
On the job, my niggas mob niggas, across the nation
Pacin like a pimp, walkin witta limp cos my, calibre
holds extended 50 round clips in a server
Plugged off Hennessey, the doja got me in a zone
Fo' a ho-zone, mad at niggas, whole hood sewn
Ridin wit a Tek if you wit reals, set the clip
With the infrared beam on your bishop, A-P mean on ya
All soldiers from my first generation just in case
All the damage left survivors, we official struggle strivers
Can no pressure make me crack? Sit the fuck back
Traumatise your whole click, enter this, enchant tricks
Got they gillholes workin, lacin em wit two textures
That top-of-the-line impact, regulate on my track
Smash down on your shit, clown when the truck dip
Like boo young buckshots be shredded, servin *?clocks-er?*
Still acts suspicious when it's time for 2-11's, got my pocket-size
pistols
Breakin em my 7
if the shit ain't skanless, you'll never read my Mafia mind
Soldiers killin anybody tryin to pull his behind
Gotta do em bad, I'm tryin to make a million like my big homey Bolo
It's time to make a killin
Chorus