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crest shit - mac dre lyrics

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[verse 1: mac dre]
once upon a time, before i had a seed
i was on the block with rocks and hella bags of weed
i’ve calmed down, used to live savagely
hurt feelings, k!llings, a lot of tragedy
once upon a time, i had everybody mad at me
haters wanted to see them winning, rather me
gradually, i started having cabbage, see
and only my real folks was glad to see me
md, d-gg-n’ and doin’ it
staying true to the game, and never ruin it
you need nothin’ else but me on the menu
it’s crest shit, dubee, continue

[verse 2: dubee]
we went from cookin’ and joogin’ that crack sack
strappin’ a backpack to blappers that rat-tat
let your boy state the pure facts
ever since a nitwit, me and my niggas been wit’ this
runnin’ wit’ [?], marksmen don’t miss
and this shit, got me to the point i can’t help but do my thang
slang mills, chops with the furl, spinnin’ circles ‘round you lames
these cutthoat niggas came to snatch a stack of racks in flame
snatchin’ everything in the way, a punk rock gon’ save
my work knock always, scrilla grit getta, sick nigga
blappin’ a chop four-clip spitta, go get your clique, nigga
i’m hollerin’ ‘yo ho ho’ with this pimp-a-lish heem
j. diggs, tell these cats what i mean (what you mean?)

[verse 3: j. diggs]
if you knows not who i’m kin to
then you knows not what i been through
you knows about the romp? then you knows what i be into
if you ain’t knowin’ ‘bout dre, you probably don’t know coolie
chances is you ain’t knowin’ about diggs, dolla and dubee
double up like a doolie, i show you who my crew be
run off in your neighborhood, crestsiders make a movie
put my gat where your -ss at, face where my mask be
gangsta -ss nigga puttin’ nothin’ fuckin’ past me
got a question? better not ask me
tuck you in my backseat
leave you all muffled like a nigga ridin’ wit’ bad beat
it’s diggs, dude, north side of the v
and brought the unda dogg, another nigga ridin’ wit’ me

[verse 4: coolio da unda dogg]
shit gettin’ sticky, it’s very tricky how these streets’ll lock us up in this game
for riches and fame, so b-tches jock us, slangin’ that ‘caine
bodies get slain, hoping the cops don’t pop us, breaking through chains
all in the hood, ducking helicopters, hard to maintain
we gettin’ chains, i keep them hater-stoppers, nickels and bows
for my foes, no love for baller blockers gettin’ a grip
if we slip, then that’s the end of it
crossed by a snitch, so now the feds got wind of it
taking for granted nothin’ on this planet, i’m tryin’ to get paid
lawyer fees to manage just in case the police raid
b-tches come a dime a dozen, never tripped on hoes
you pussy-whipped on yours, that’s why you flipped on yours, nigga

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