Strap On The Side Lyrics - Spice 1

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Poke 'em down with the clip and the trigga 

Screamin' like Eiht, yelling, "Come on Nigga!" 

Nappy-head muthafuckas in a coupe de-ville 

Lightin shit up like Fire Marshal Bill 

You see, I hops on the flo like my nigga Domino 

And get a big fat sack of yay 

A key or a half the mothafuckin' bay 

Pistol-whipped him with an A-K. 

Peep this, loddi-doddi, I shot up his body 

I left his ass bloody in the front of the party. 

It's a yig-a-young nigga rollin up out the cut 

Do a drive-by with the feds on my nutts. 

Niggas be gettin' gatted when they step to this G 

See I pull my mothafuckin' UZI! 

And, spill his brain (spill his brain) 

Spill his brain (spill his brain) 

Spill his brain in his mothafuckin' lap. 

I pulls a jack (pulls a jack) Pulls a jack (pulls a jack) 

And shoot the heart out his mothafuckin' back! 

I'm comin' with the 187, not with that ho shit 

So niggas, pack up the bombs, so we can blow shit! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Ver 2: comin' up in a mask like Tales of the Cryptic 

UZ thang swallows that ass like Lypton Nigga! 

And now, they're trying to wander and vigor 

How the fuck Charles Manson try to step to a nigga? 

Put a blast on their ass with the holes of the barrel 

Bullets fly in a chest like a mothafuckin' farrow. 

'cause we get like Steven King, bodies swing from my ceiling 

Oak was in the chest when it's time for cap peelin. 

9-4, hit the do with a fat gat 

Comin' like this, break 'em down like that. 

The nigga with the bags and the fat crack sack 

Po-Poes on my back, blow their ass off the map! 

With the 1-8-7, mad man killa 

Spill a nigga guys for the fuck Cause, I'll be 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Ver 3: It goes one for the treble, you don't want to floss 

Unless you want to flex with my bitch you little boss. 

Ga-a-gat that ass with the double-deuce Darringer 

From the bay area the pall bearer 

6 niggas carry ya momma in hysteria 

Welcome to your mothafuckin' coffin, they'll stare at ya! 

Cause, you're a dead muthafucka black 

And you never should have fucked with the 1-8-7 fat. 

So nick-nack patty-wack, give a G a gat 

And put some bullets in that ass crack! 

Yeah, break 'em down with the Mack 

And like John Madden 93, "BOOM! He's on his back!" 

Spice 1 is a mothafuckin' troopa 

So, say what's up to the East Bay Freddy Kruegar. 

Blow the head off the mothafuckin' cow 

When my gat goes off like an air 1000. 

Take the hood off your hooptie when I bust a cap 

Rollin' with my mothafuckin' strap on my side! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G! 

Rollin with my mothafuckin' strap on the side of me 

Don't fuck with the East Bay G!