Co-Operation

Krondon, Rakaa Iriscience, Mitchy Slick, Evidence

Dead men tell no stories
Liars can’t live in the street
Whatever plans God has for me
I’ll cooperate instead of compete
We coming for ‘em nigga (yeah)
Ain’t no looking back (yeah)
Forward motion nigga just remember that
We gon’ get ‘em, get ‘em, we gon’ hit ‘em
Hit ‘em (Nonono)
We gon’ get ‘em get ‘em, we gon’ hit ‘em
Hit ‘em

(It’s that CA all day)
Evidence, Taylor Made, it’s custom
I heard if they smile too
Much don’t trust ‘em
I heard the phone’s no place for discussion
Just heard a click
Either I’m bugged or bugging (Look out)
Some call it living in fear
Believe most of what you see
Some of what you hear
Don’t believe in ghosts?
The Lost Angel’s here
Don’t think your friends will set you up?
It’s your year - it’s going down
And when it does, shed no tears
Sleep with both eyes open, and one of my ears
Ready, always scoping one of my peers
I can sense the fake
Energy behind your cheers
I can slow the flow down
Just to make it clear
Shift my gears, my enemies close in line
If you can’t trust none of your crew
How you supposed to climb
I guess keep your guard up
They fade out in due time

Why when a nigga from the West
Where Dickies it’s too bangin
But when out-of-towners do it
It’s a fashion statement (Fuck that)
Why most DJs out here say
They support the West bump us on Hump Day
But chump us out the rest
How to blow under those conditions?
I’m only known where the
Project chicks is living
Where the Ninety-Six Caprice’s on
The spinners is driven
When Slick spitting better know
The hitmen is listening
That’s who I kick it for - not the radio
My niggas is stuck with
California Level Fours
To use hip-hop to motivate in other days
With the urban survival even
If it causes decay
Stretching yay, having to put a
Bitch they kinda like, out on the blade
Steady Gang feel the killers
And the dealers pain
Some of us still got hard flame for slang

(We gon’ get ‘em)
Watch you colors homie, watch your slang
Watch how you make your
Fingers twist and change
A lot of brothers out
Here still ain’t playing
A lot of blocks out here still gang bang
Dilated wrong kind, SD to LA to the Bay
Gotta say ‘Rest in Peace’ to Mac Dre (RIP)
Boyz in the Hood shit
Menance to Society flow
Now the beats bang like Colors on your radio
Crazy since the Eighties
Now Kobe’s dropping eighty-one
On these rap tours, nightclubs to the stadium
Sick Angelino squad, savage ammunition strike
Strong Arm Steady Gang, sedatives and stimuli
Back with a bong
Man we just killed a quarter
I’m a DJ advocate, toasting firewater
With Krondon and Phil Da Agony
Chopping up the orders
Moving big work with Mitchy Slick
Down by the border

Yeahnigga, Strong Arm Steady, nigga
Yeah, West Coast is cracking
Don’t get it fucked up
And Dilated, don’t get them
Fucked up neither, yeah dat

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