[Intro: Larry Troutman, (Tray Deee)]
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
(Yeah! Yeah!)
[Verse 1: Tray Deee]
Comin' from the city where no pity is shown
And everybody want to be a G when they grown
Same song in my hood as it is in yours
They send real niggas to the pen in scores
Wars caused by jaws, of bitches and punks
Speakin' on the ones that's the quickest to dump
Same fools ridin' that's been down for years
Considered as the shit when they around they peers
Three cheers to the turf, for whatever it's worth
Cuz I'ma represent it 'til I'm set in the dirt
My mentality, to battle the opponent and dip
And checkin' every nigga that ever wanted to step
In my direction
Wit' a question fo' testin'
This section I represent fo' inspection
When somethin' jumpin', then I'm dumpin'
Pumpin' fear in ya ear, when ya hear that I'm bumpin'
[Hook: Larry Troutman & Nate Dogg]
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
(Techniec)
It's groovy how I sooth thee
Light complex, so who's next to flex?
These MC's, please – I'm fed up
Head up, that's just the way I display
Any time a day, I'll duel
Dynamically wit' the lyrical tool
Fuel's on the fire, burnin' desire
To get this rap game stretched down to the wire, sire
I'm compulsive as a blast, you'll see
From T to the E-C-H-N-I-E-C
Free – from all this nonsense, guilt, and shame
Can't trust no hoes, 'cuz they the ones to blame
But what I did been through, seen, and touched
Got a mental instinct, the hoes talk to much
And outta my mouth comes nothing but game
And outta yo' mouth, please keep my name
'Cuz verbally, you heard of the T-E-C
But why chase after he you cannot see?
[Hook: Larry Troutman]
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
[Verse 3: Bad Azz]
Recognize game when it's all in yo' face, off safety
Close range, hit the center mass when I aim, then shoot
Out the window of the coupe
Dump, foot to gas, I swoop
To this lowkey spot, to law low from the do-low
Put my gun away, cuz they got done away
By a 'rather pull a trigger'-type nigga
Seein' stages off mics and shootin' gauges off bikes
It's like – livin' and dyin', while laughin' and cryin'
In the same breath, you gain less
Messin' in a Lex', and I'm stressing for real
Unless you feel that you strong enough to go long enough
It ain't nothing but a thang – nigga, can you hang?
I bang, similar to a gang
Hit you up, and on the mic, I ain't nothing nice
I'll leave you wit' your mental disturbed
Sellin' cabbage, smoking chronic on the curb
Hollerin' at my boys about them dollars and Impalas wit' the switches
Still lovin' no hoes, trustin' none of ya'll bitches
'Cuz the key is to see through the traps, cuz they set
Life is like craps – I hit, niggas bet
[Hook: Larry Troutman & Nate Dogg]
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
(Baby... tell them, baby)
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
(Tell them, baby)
[Verse 4: South Sentrelle]
Now I gotta make my ends the best way I can
Because my man's in the pen fo' ten
Told me to handle his biz
Told me to handle his Benz
And keep away from his tricks
But the South chose to take another route
Get a lover and discover what the game was about
Traded in the Benz for a Chevy Suburb'
Toss up the gold, now we ready to swerve
Herb, smoke out, a nigga dizzy
Spare tire holds the kizzy, fo' us to get busy
From city to city, we mash
All they ever seen was the '95 tag pass
Cinema, the lil' cinnamon pretty one
Known to get 'em up 'wit anyone
From sun up to sundown
Servin' pound fo' pound
Smoking 'til the yay run down
[Verse 5: Lil' C-Style]
Ahh – it ain't too many crews that can do this shit
Rude bitches acting out, promotin' gangsta shit?
Cuz, see, that's what people love all about the compilation
And since the shit dropped, everybody got conversation (Odelay!)
Some people love us, some people won't
But do I give a fuck?! No, I don't!
And when them Dogg Pound killaz step next to me
I try my very best to bury they ass C-I-X feet deep!
Now that's gangsta
So you can throw a lick, and make that grip
And continue to dip, see I trip
Cuz the click I got wit' spit (Dogg Pound!) gangsta shit
And we commit (commit what?)
A revolution of performin' confusion
And fuckin' niggas up in this game of music (Now that's gangsta)
(Hahaha, yeah... now that's gangsta!)
[Hook: Larry Troutman & Nate Dogg]
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
Best beware of my crew
Somebody, somewhere, best beware of my crew
Best beware of my crew
Somebody, somewhere...