On My Cide

[Chorus (x4)]
Don't ya come wit me (And?), creep wit me (Where?), on my cide? (Right)

[Verse 1: Dazzie Dee]
Do you wanna come and rip shit deep
Where niggas take to the G, from my cide
That W-S, West bringin' that's '66 hot low low on lock up
But stop when everythin' pops, 187 on the cops
So let's represent and all dip the island of
Daily spokes, Indo smoke
She keeps passing me by, stay high
'Cause niggas this way stay high
Y'all niggas really better not stay posted, uh, you'll get toasted
Roll 'em up 'cause I got a lot of Indo to puff
Livin' in the ghetto stays rough, so tough
It's been a long time since we hoo ride
So let's slide, hit right, on my cide

[Chorus (x4)]
Don't ya come wit me (And?), creep wit me (Where?), on my cide? (Right)

[Verse 2: Tha Chill]
Flossin' on the 105th to the SC
To see what the fuck was up with the homie Dazzie Dee
? on the pimpin' yo, dippin' on the West street, 111th to 106th
Now ? my man steps off the porch, all blue khakis shorts
Jump out the Cutlass, puffin' on a Newport
Gave to my nigga a dap, now we stepped to the back room
Sat down, he pulling out a bag of boom
Good shit, the bomb good shit (Ahh shit)
The shit that make your ass take one hit and quit
Nigga, take a toke on, the homie got dressed
Jumps in the cutlass, we head to the West (Westside)
Get our ride on to the fullest, slow
Set trip, nigga get smoke
Do you think y'know about the ?
Call me killa, call me Chill but nothin', nigga ?

[Chorus (x4)]
Don't ya come wit me (And?), creep wit me (Where?), on my cide? (Right)

[Verse 3: Coolio]
It's all about what you do and not what you know
My mama was a pimp, so I could never be a ho
Don't you want creep with me?
It's that nigga from the CPT, call me a G
Funky rhyme rippin', Hennessy sippin'
Tennis shoe pimpin', that's how I'm livin'
Rollin' in the Caddy with my homeboy Dazzie
You don't want to make him mad
'Cause he might have to blast
You can call me C-O, you can call me ?
But when it's time to creep, just don't forget to get load
Cold like ice when the dice hit the ground
I ain't like Brady but nigga, I'm down
'65 cutlass bumpin' front to the back
Bumpin' that, bumpin that funk
With about 100 niggas in the trunk
Sittin' on the phone with a nigga named Showie
Yeah, we roll deep, that's how we live

[Chorus (x8)]
Don't ya come wit me (And?), creep wit me (Where?), on my cide? (Right)

Don't ya, don't ya...

[Skit]