Crest Shit

[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, killings, 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, doggin’ 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 ass at, face where my mask be
Gangsta ass 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 bitches 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
Bitches come a dime a dozen, never tripped on hoes
You pussy-whipped on yours, that’s why you flipped on yours, nigga