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Spice 1 lyrics 510, 213 lyrics Hook: 5-1-0 and 2-1-3 is you a baller or a G? Spice 1 Intro: Ha ha ha. To thug or not to thug? To G or not to G? See that's the question. Everytime I hit L.A. I get love you know cause I'm from the Bay. Dub C, Big Syke you know Spice 1. Feel me. Spice 1: Count the dollars on the Lexy don't waste your time Let it shine let it shine let it shine Mizzolas and 850 flossin' I'm tossin' Doobies up out the window smokin' often coughin' Chokin' hard up off the indo smoke My mens with extra clips Hennessy Lemon squeeze begin to dip on me The G with the strap up on my side Keepin' these haters apon they toes cause they know I'm ready to ride Hide but you can't get away This is your dead homie you should of put your tool away But you still pull it on me, see I ain't trippin' I got foot soldiers that do dirt for me Love me enough to hurt for me and do some work for me Black roses is sent to the families with all the lives lost Kill 'em soft pay off my henchmen like a mob boss Mobster ballin' out the hooptie Who could it be? S.P.I.C.E. Hook Big Syke: Sound like baller I'm caught up in troubled times Destiny knows help me free my mind What can I do but stay true and be a man I'm just doin' what I can Migrate to Oakland lay low with my dog Spice Hang out with killers and dodge device Gotta pay the price took a life or maybe two (was it two?) I wouldn't of done it if I didn't have to In the wrong place at the right time evil minds learkin' Thought I was over peerkin' searchin' for a home I feel alone On these cold streets, sleepin' on couches with no sheets God guide me hide me from incarceration and start this despiration I'm facin' more time then I really got to give Damn I wanna live in 2-1-3 Hook WC: It's the Dub S.C. on G parolee And although deez steadily grinding for cheese Trunk fulla keys on my way O.T. from 5-1-0 to the 2-1-3 I puts it down bendin' the corner with my all blue Chevy My mind on gettin' the fetti, my heater cocked back and ready With G's crime related, affilated eyes faded Big bodies paper plated stayin' shaded for federated My crews full of nothin' but riders high off the Remy Chuck Taylors neck pieces and knitted beenies (uh ha) Mashin' on the regular hustlin' day and night Went from chronic to water but now we pushin' the China white Much loved by many but now by many hated Trippin' off the the haters lookin' mad cause we made it But don't get mad at me because I executed the game I got my hustle on loc you can do the same Hook Other Spice 1 lyrics: In My Neighborhood lyrics Money Gone lyrics Peace to My Nine lyrics Young Nigga lyrics Welcome to the Ghetto lyrics City Streets lyrics 1-900-Spice lyrics Dumpin' Em In Ditches lyrics 187 He Wrote lyrics Don't Ring the Alarm (The Heist) lyrics 380 On That Ass lyrics Mo' Mail lyrics Runnin?Out Da Crackhouse lyrics Trigga Gots No Heart lyrics Trigga Happy lyrics RIP lyrics 1990-Sick ( Kill 'Em All) lyrics Dirty Bay lyrics Mind of a Sick Nigga lyrics Drama lyrics Mobbin' lyrics Sucka Ass Niggas lyrics 1-800 (Str8 from the Pen) lyrics Ain't No Love lyrics Funky Chickens lyrics Snich Killas lyrics Can U Feel It lyrics 1990-Sick (Kill 'Em All) lyrics Tha Thug in Me lyrics I'm High lyrics Recognize Game lyrics Playa Man lyrics Ballin lyrics The Boss Mobster lyrics Kill Street Blues lyrics Wanna Be a G lyrics 2 Hands and a Razor lyrics Suckas Do What They Can (Real Playaz) lyrics U Can't Fade Me lyrics Can I Hit It? lyrics High Powered lyrics Killerfornia lyrics Gone With The Wind lyrics Too Deep in the Game lyrics Make Sure They Bleed lyrics Immortalized lyrics Ride Wit Me lyrics Strap on the Side lyrics Jealous Got Me Strapped lyrics Doncha Runaway lyrics You Can Get the Gat for That lyrics You Done Fucked Up lyrics |