[ Ganxsta R?dd]
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Man
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All I know when we get out
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We finna roll
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Check this one out
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Brothers, do we got bass?
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[ all ] (Yes, we got bass)
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Too many busters out there on the streets
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We gonna have to take em out
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(Go on with it, Ridd)
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[VERSE 1: Ganxsta R?dd]
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But before we go on, my name's Ridd, not Ren
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It's me again, comin out the lock-in
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O.M.B., my brother, bring on the bass
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There's dollars to be made and posses to waste
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Pass by the hood to pick up the gat
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Stop by the studio for the new track
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Q Ball rollin, 8 Ball in the pocket
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Just bail on stage and pull the mic out the socket
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Boo-Yaa dogs (woof!) locked on the canine
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It's '89, it's time to get mine
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This madness, you never had this
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Home of the O.G.'s (we threw out all the faggots)
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I'm pluggin my microphone with full-equipped lyrics
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MC's smell the smoke of my mic and they fear it
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I'm known to be the hanger for the MC's I hang
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I throw a riddle, it come back like a boomerang
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[CHORUS]
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We're not here to play
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We're just here to spray
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This is a
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[ all ]
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R.A.I.D.
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Everybody on the dancefloor
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R.A.I.D.
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(Woof!)
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You gotta know this one
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[VERSE 2: Ganxsta R?dd]
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If knowledge is power, then I'm muscle-bound
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Loc'ed out as a hound, I'm not down in a dog pound
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Breakin out, MC's start fakin out
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Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., time to start takin out
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MC's come and MC's go
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For all the MC's that go is too slow for my .44
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I peel em at the frontdo' ( *shot* )
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(Boo-yaa!) Then I drag em to the backdo'
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Then I say, "You want some more, then say no more"
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(Why is that?) Because I'm just too hardcore
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So you know Ridd packs a .44
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Bring on the rap jam and let's roll
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[CHORUS x2]
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[VERSE 3: Ganxsta R?dd]
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(Put Riddler on the roof) cause I shoot the vics
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My mission was to shoot straight to the chicks
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I filed a contract, not to confess
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Found out that the buster had a bullet-proof vest
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(So what did you do?) I had nothin to say
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Pulled out my Uzi and I started to spray
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Went to the morgue to identify his body
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(Yeah, that's him, ??? posse at the party)
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I'm not prankster, word to Godfather, I'm a gangsta
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And this is the time I'd like to give thanks to
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All my brothers for doin it (their way)
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And now it's my way, we're not here to play
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Boo-Yaa - please, who can match?
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Like a purse on Imperial (you will get snatched)
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And like a Camel in the county (you will get smoked)
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And when the Riddler took the loco toll (that was loc'ed)
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Check out O.M.B., my bassman, forget the turntable
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(Island) the name of my record label
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That's the reason my jams sound so hard
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Cause it's boomin from a bailin car
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Down the boulevard and we don't stop
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Cause all you posses get mopped, get dropped
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We rock the party, steal all the ladies
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Since it's '89 we're in the Eighties
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[CHORUS x2]
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Hit me deuce times
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(Woof, woof!)
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(Attention, all D.R.
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This is a R.A.I.D.)
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He-he-he-ha-ha
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-----------------
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R.A.I.D.
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| Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. |
