[Verse 1: Baby X- Rated Locc]
Comin off that high it's that double- set
rapped around some funk in the trunk
I got the mossberg pump and
bout' to jack a punk
And when that siccness hits
I'm like a new stage
Watch my back, hit the dank,
load the gat, make the grave
Twelve midnight, my niggas on the stroll,
Mr. Doc, Baby Reg, Brotha Lynch, Big Dan
We bout' to roll ridin deep hella
high so nigga peep this,
Take ya glock off safety turn
around and hit the street
When I got the milli pictured
in my head
Ain't no stoppin 'cause the devil
said I'm halfway dead
What can I say got them evil thoughts
fillin' up my Head locc to the brain
On that in sane tip E- be-
K everyday
The block- style bitch smokin' dank
With my braids in my hair and I'm
riding on a full tank
My nine on the side going Both ways,
Peel a niggas cap an d then
I'm sideways
Dan]
Now try to peep this watt G straight
low killa rollin five and the deuce
Locc to the brain set- trippin' after
fucking with that sick juice
I fuckin' pump twelve rounds of
that knot block the plot
(you down to ride?) yeah we fuck
in' with them body drops stop
Hit the lights there them niggas go
Reach for your flags your straps
and roll the windows low
Roll slow these niggas actin like
they know us are here,
They fuckin' duckin' dodging
bullets damn I emptied the clip
They bustin' back trying to hit us
from the blind side Low,
A fucking doughnut and
the twelve- gauge pump
Hang from the window what's
up now nigga yee- ah
L- O- see to the brain and gauge
blast equals rest in pain
Insane loc so a nigga
don't give a fuck
It's in the hearts so these rival
niggas straight stuck
I let the gauge loose damn I've
never seen so much blood
It's all for gang and the
gang shows no love fool
So if you ever see us rollin through
your side it ain't all good,
I suggest you hide
Chorus: 1X
deep see how
I'm bout to do it for this
Back with tight big shit
Them fools that say they'll kill the
stinking hits not doing shit
When they get lit up on they turf
So move on with they life one even left
That since that time I haven't
heard from him
Now that's my locc right damn,
where'd you go folks?
Remember we're supposed to be
the ones with brains this locc's
So nigga fuck it,
I'll do it like your ass is dead
And touch them niggas with
the mack- eleven out of the shell
I'm burning up the villiage nigga
life is a bitch
Somes I set the tags and name
on the wall you fucking snitch
So you'll make a switch on how
you're gang- banging
L- O- see and to the brain real
locc's don't play that way
See your niggas on the other
side is best to hit the floor
And watch them flesh- shredders
bout' to rip your asshole apart
And now it is said and
what was said
Will come to pass from Mr. Doc amen,
God bless your ass
[Verse 4: Baby Reg] See I was
standing in the middle of a circle
'cause' a nigga is trying to jack me
With a nine- millimeter
ruger and a six deep posse
But I ain't going out for a jack move
The only thing on my mind
Is pullin my nine and these
handles in these fools
Now tell me what you busters want with me?
They started talking about pockets
on the ground you mean
Empty my loot out,
you fools must be smokin' sherms
But I'll be glad to put my strap up in your face
and let some gun powder burn
Now take a lesson from a Sac-
Town criminal
I'm standing all alone in the street
And talkin shit to your circle and ain't
no blastin y'all must be bluffin
Threw up my sign and grabbed
my nine- millimeter nine
And started bustin on niggas and watching
every mother fucker try to run
That locc to da brain got a nigga
insane with a fucking empty gun
So imma continue to strike and stay alone
and maintain my self- pride
'cause' when I ride it's always
locc to da brain
[Verse 5: Brotha Lynch
Hung]
You can't see me for the fact that
the inside of my strap's in your sight
Bout' to put some slugs in your throat
and put your guts in my coat and hit
The night Drop a sack of indo
in my pipe and it's
EBK everyday until the day
I hit my grave- sight
That locc to the brain
'cause' it's all redrum
A couple of hits from the purple spliff
And I'm workin a fifth of the coke and rum
I have my twelve gauge- pump
decorating niggas brains
Nigga nuts and guts is how we get
sick them Northern Cal slayings
That locc to the brain shit ain't
no game it's a gang
Them niggas that killed they mama
for some fame it ain't no thang
It ain't no way, I dump and let
them niggas live
'cause' where I'm from
we rockin up on em'
Bustin them reps up in them niggas ribs
It's twelve- o- clock full of that spliff full
of that ammo in my glock- nine
Creepin through your set hit the stop
Sign sideways bustin I see
gat twenty- four see's
Feel the breeze from the slugs
in my nine now
Rest in peace