Crest Shit - Mac Dre, Dubee, J Diggs

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

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?)

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

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