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"2" famous dogs (to all dogs) - damu ridas (bloods) lyrics
intro: lil’ lunch, lil’ hawk & b*brazy:
gangsta, gangsta…
uh, to all my real leaders, yeah, this that n*gga lil’ lunch, lettin’ y’all know it’s on the ’97, it’s the last bangin’ on wax, we bangin’ on facts from that mad*ass yg lil’ lunchmeat, inglewood to south central, and just to set the record straight, we real gangstas comin’ up out the crooked eye, oh, and to that n*gga mack*10, aka deuce*deuce ballway, you clowned yaself, b*tch*ass n*gga, inglewood ain’t givin’ long beach n*ggas no passes, inglewooooood
now here’s a story of two famous dogs, lil’ hawk and braze*the*daze, no puppy dogs, no doggy dogs, just b*dogs, and when it’s two b*dogs, flaggin’ and saggin’ their tails, it must be there, man, hahahahaha, check him out
verse 1: lil’ hawk:
up early in the mornin’, wakin’ up, jumpin’ out the bed
smokin’ and chokin’ on some chronic, now my eyes all red
lil’ mothaf*ckin’ hawkster, man, you n*ggas know me
’cause i’m the same mothaf*cka that k!lled yo’ crab homies
verse 2: b*brazy:
y’all know me, sh*t, long hair with the goatee
i’m doin’ l!cks with the og
i know y’all n*ggas talkin’ sh*t, i pop a cap in that ass
for eatin’ ass off the video, really though (really though)
saggin’ with a g, i bell with pistol packers
bust a b*tch, a hoe i’m smackin’
khaki and (?) saggin’
verse 3: lil’ hawk:
and we the real doggy dogs, lil’ hawk and b*brazy
red flag, khakis sag, you crab n*ggas gettin’ the fades
you gettin’ played like this instrumental, inglewood to south bentral
mafia lane, real simple
verse 4: b*brazy:
we put it to they temple, then to lay ’em down, you gon’ get the tape
while i crack the safe and workin’ with the duct tape
fool, i know you hatin’, causin’ 108th
best to fly for them lanes ’cause the homies shoot strange
chorus x2:
for my dogs, for my dogs
if you out there, put the b
bring yo’ heat, bring yo’ heat
nuthin’ but the dogs, hear me?
verse 5: lil’ hawk:
twinkle, twinkle, they try to shoot the star
but you crab n*ggas missed, you n*ggas only shot my car
now how far you gon’ get, you mothaf*ckas can’t ride
when i cmg ride through the wicked westside
verse 6: b*brazy:
this ain’t no damu ridas, me, hawk and spyder
and the ridas, came to three*wheel when i glide up
we the ridin’ eastsidas, rickets right behind us
scared to pass us up, ’cause they scared we blast ’em up
verse 7: lil’ hawk:
n*gga, ain’t no justice, no bustas, no mothaf*ckin’ peace
dpgck in the name of the street
n*gga, there ain’t no love on this mic, black puma, red stripes
b*tches all up on the swipe because my game strong tight
verse 8: b*brazy:
i got the parties on by the throwdown
f*ckin’ with the bow wow, n*gga
best to watch out there now
and up jump the boogie, i’mma go and get my cookies
and i’m puttin’ that on dob, yg
verse 9: lil’ hawk:
now, i’m rollin’, ridin’, and slidin’, ‘less she spoke, triple gold
you can pay me good but get yo’ paper, that’s what i was told
’cause i remember when i used to smoke n*ggas for free
but nowadays i’m gettin’ paid just to say cmg
chorus x2
verse 10: b*brazy:
now is you bangin’ or what? n*ggas, hookers and sl*ts
i’ll bust a nut off a hawk and b*braze cut
you know what, sweet daddy, oh, braze*a*daze
and get paid, and bust a b*tch with the pocahontas braids
verse 11: lil’ hawk:
now these crab*ass n*ggas sent they b*tch to set me up
but i was already knowin’ ’em, ain’t no tryin’ to wet me up
* so what happened to the b*tch then?
n*gga, i choked her
* so you let the b*tch guilty?
h*ll naw, i smoke her
verse 12: b*brazy:
k*cut around the backpocket, n*gga, don’t knock it
gimme any mic and i rock it
fool, i done stood on many stages, rocked many of mics
with the bright red tint and bright red nikes
verse 13: lil’ hawk:
now let it rain, let it drip
it’s the bloods, f*ck the crips
cmg, dob and we known to set trip
109, 104, n*gga
and that’s the way that sh*t go, n*gga
and the way that sh*t flow, straight bangin’
chorus x4
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