[ VERSE 1: Prode'je ] The C-a-r-t-e-l's been here for ages And ain't not one of them trick-ass radio stations played us But that didn't fade us because we still gettin it on I put the heat up under my seat and I'm gone Bumpin the tape as I let the sun hit my Daytons Fuck your ratings cause this gangsta shit make ends I begins hittin them corners on the block Servin the B.G.'s the double up on the rock I shake the spot because my face comes with fame And it's a shame the way them rats scream my name And I'm fashionable, I'm hittin corners international 14 ( ? ) I'm on my phone to see if Rhime Son's at home (I'm in the back polishin my chrome) I be there in a minute so we can hit the zones To let the U.S.C. know it's still on, it's on
[ CHORUS: L.V. ] Gees still on the move Westside and Eastside finna act a fool You know it's all to the gees Hittin switches with the S.C.C. Radio don't give us props It don't stop till the gangsta drop So we gotta do it for the streets And all the gees bumpin gangsta beats
[ VERSE 2: Havikk the Rhime Son ] 85 Cutlass on the creep from block to block on ( ? ) deep dish Killin the radio, I'm turnin it off, I'm bumpin that Bushwick I gets my skate on, I'm flossin through the neighborhood It's Mr. Rhime Son to the good [ ] as I swerve to the curb in the seat Gone off that herb and the word is I'm a gee As we ( ? ) another block I lets the trunk vibrate 18's droppin them bombs like Kuwait I put it on the Richter as the 9.2, puttin the heater in my lap Craps - yo, what they hittin fo'? Snap Daps is what I give to Big Prod Cartel Gang is finna hoo-bang when we ride Check the rear-view cause you know bustas, them muthafuckas Are sneaky as hell might as well Dip with the clip tucked, snug for the funk B-l-u-n-t, let the system thump And it's like that
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 3: Havikk ] How many of you busters... Are thinkin about servin us? Proceed with caution Pin him in a turnin lane before he bend Slauson The 85 Cutlass cuffed on d's, at ease... Up off my nut sacks, like I said ain't no get back Trump tight as we slide on In a Cut and Young Prod, time to get your ride on (Locsters) Cartel ridin Rolls in the '96, unfadable Cause we don't need no damn radio [ Prode'je ] Prod and Rhime Son on triple gold d's Checkin out the frequencies In a hour they ain't played the S.C.C. But I'm a gee regardless how many marks gon' ride On the S.C.G.'s from the Evil Side, Big Prod (And I, Mr. Rhime Son comin with the nine gun) In the cut slugs get bucked, so what the fuck Is really goin down, it ain't no changing faces The man in the mirror is a gangster Fo' life