Whips and Kicks

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah nigga

That's all yall niggas talk about all fucking day man

The whips man, Fucking cars and all that shit

Fucking vehicles and shit man

We been swing'n and all these niggas need to cut it out man

Cause yall niggas is babies man

Remember the Four Runner's, Corsica's, Back with the gold cunnions

Maxima yep, Stances, Audis with sick vances

Datsun's, Corolla's, All of the oldies yo

Riding through the city, Jetta's and Volvo's

Crestas' was for the extra terrestrial

Alpha Romeo's, Yeah the Wrangler's and Lexus'

Pinto's, Geo's, Suzuki's was the truth yo

Making them up town trips, Cops'll shoot you though

Benz's, Five-sixties', Gallant's and the fly Rivies

Rivera's look grisly huh

You know we come through, Something mean under the sun roof

I blow a blunt, Poof, Shorty singing I'm Koof

Yeah the Sterling, The Grand Am's

The Lincoln with the crab amps

Made me mad, In the Blazer we all crampted

Six deep, Four bags of cheeba, A crisp beat

All I need to show you now is a sick Jeep

Eighty-four mopeds, Blue and white Pro-Keds

Just started puff'n, Got instructions for an old head

Co-ved, Wally rock'n niggas tryna grow dreads

Back in the bush, Church Ave. on the juxs

Shell toes, Black and white, No laces in em

Pat U-edition had his whole face in em

Straight leg denims, Taylor made shit

Kareem Laker colors, Low cut suede tip

Stay dipped, Stan Smith lay sick

Two-toned colors, Put the taps on the rubber

Puma rock'n nigga, Fuck a womber I was bigger

See a bitch in seconds an assumed that I could rip her

None hipper, Copped kicks with the zippers

The Fila's arrived, It was Levi's and high

In V Tracks I was simply the mack

Everything I snatched had to match with the hat

Reebok rocker, Whole crew couldn't knock us

Fuck who, Only thing to do was just glock us

Valley Competitions and the Jordan's hit stores

I'm sitting reminiscing, T. La Rock it's yours

Now fast forward time nigga still on the grind

Haters everywhere, Nigga still gotta shine

Gucci's all kinds, Switch em up for the weather

Louis' in lime, Only do it for the pleasure

Come fresher, From the tech on the dresser

Fifth in the waist, Still crys'd and I'm laced

Niggas, And I do it for real you dig

You know, I still rock the Gor-Tex and Tim's when necessary

Other then that, Bogary low cuts the minimum

Or I do the Italian Classic Olympic cut Gucci's

Three quarters, You bum ass niggas