Lyrics South Central Cartel

South Central Cartel

Can I Roll Wit U

Can I roll with you?

Nigga, what can I do?

When I still seem

To day-dream and fiend for green

Cause one plus two, broke muthafuckas, don't equals naythin

In a buck-fortyfive's what I'm waitin

So now it's time for me to grab the strap

And put you in a sleeper eternally

That's what my psychic's tellin me

So now I'm ridin to the sun, and I

Know it ain't shit for me to lose...

...So I

Asked the big homie to put it down for me

When I was down you been around for me

Give me nine ounces, and count this stackola

That I can rack for ya

For sho', yo ride, as I slide to Kansas City

Not lookin for hoes that shake no titties

But to drop off ki's and collect my g's

My fees for this job is three g's

Let's see if I can get it crackin for me

Can I roll with you?

Nigga, what can I do

For you, now that it's really on and poppin?

Went to the city and my big homies is ???

With my 3 g's, can I get it crackin for me?

I always heard that bullets turn curves like Nike stripes

So one silent night they take flights to put out headlights

Turn to your skull where your brains was

Game recognize game, can you dig it?

I did it, stackin to see what's happenin

Loop - there it is, I'm handlin my biz

With this I'm buyin powdered shit

So I can rock it up and make it whoop, the loot

Chop it into doves to serve em love like Herbie

This whooped-up lley gon' freeze they brains like slurpies

But I'm tryin to kick back, relax and stack a meal ticket

Motivation is good preparation, so I rolls with it

(In a '86 coupe) in a '85 cutlass

2 O.G.'s on fo' d's, and we're comin

Nigga, what's happenin?

Shall we get to scrappin or cappin?

A king-size .44 magnum to tag em

Well, I guess we'll get into some gangster shit

I let my strap holler at your chest while Mouthpiece holler at your bitch

And I'm checkin eyes, so you best to recognize

When I let these bullets fly, from this heat you gon' die

Right, you muthafuckas wanna see the gangstas

I'm comin from the squad, I ain't no peace treaty banger

I was born in the hood and raised, I stayed in the hood, that's real

From emptyin my clip, from dumpin on niggas, I'm pistol-whippin your grill

But still you feel me in attempts to pull my card

I'm rollin a fo' do', Eagle out the window, dumpin on y'all

And all I did was struggle for my land

And I'm too much of a gee to die by another man

And understand you gotta bury me, you won't worry me

With your playa-hater strategy, for my enemy