Dead Bodies - The Alchemist, The Game, Prodigy

We out in this… P and Game, we’ll blow that bitch up

From the world’s most infamous, 1st Infantry

(Alchemist, this shit raw like fresh beef playa

We boyz in da hood… wanna see a dead body)

Sittin' in a lowrider, murda on my mind

'Cause I had too many dead homies in my lifetime

That’s why I ride wit a nine and dem hollow tips

Lift niggas like a chrome hydraulic switch

Wit a hood rat in the car that swallow dicks

So good that I got P on that six-four Impala shit

She from Compton just like me

Caramel wit extensions just like Eve

She want to go to a Knicks game, sit next to Spike Lee

Well do the right thing, blow a nigga out his Nikes

She married to The Game, that’s wifey

Ask Gotti get them blood stains out your white tee

P in the backseat finger fuckin' her girlfriend

That’ll put a golf ball hole in your right cheek

Start trippin' over colors like Ice-T

And you can watch your life slip away through an I. V

We out in Cali, P and Game straight blow that bitch up

We out in New York, P and Game we blow that bitch up

You can’t stop us, we gettin' this money its not bangin'

You can’t pull that shit this way, we head bangin'

Wit dem Glocks and dem oo-ops

Me and my fools shoot, wutchu tryin' do that

I suggest you do not

My chain is hot, what’s more hot than that

That’s how I murda music, that’s why your broads on my back

Got two birds on my shoulders, they all over me

And ready to fuck Game and whoever else roll wit me

My presence is strong, I have a bitch seein' dollar

Signs spots stare at me too long

Have you seein' that white light you come at me wrong

Or any one of my dawgs, I’ll be settin' it off

You was raised on beef and live real drama

Don’t let the coupes twist you, we lettin' o’s off

We out in this… P and Game, we’ll blow that bitch up

(P and Game rollin' the Dutch)

P and Game, we’ll blow that bitch up, mixed with the A L see

NYC to LA we do our sweep

We out in Compton, P and Game lacin' Chucks

We out in QB, P and Game rollin' a Dutch

Dumpin' ashes out the windshield

Haze got my head spinnin like dem 24 inch wheels

Ridin' to Suga Hill bangin' shook ones

On the westside highway, hand on the steel

If I like your chain then blood spill

'Cause I ain’t getta million dollars when I signed my deal

Nigga I’ll tie your wife to a chair and blow that bitch up

You better fire proof your crib, I’ll blow that shit up

I’m all about this crime shit for real, this rap shit is luck

Try to score points on me, I’ll fasten you up

In that smelly proof bag, real real fast

Shoot the deuce under my arm, I’m real real slick

Can’t put a tail on me, I drive too fast

Can’t put tag on me, I smoke people ass

If you from the westside, nigga throw that shit up

If you bang to eastside, nigga throw that shit up

I ain’t tryna be in The Source or Double X L

I’m just tryna fuck Trina 'cause Dre said sex sells

And it was either this or jail

Imagine tryna fit birds in a Honda Accel

And they caught up on the Fed Ex mail

So we stopped doin' business and chirpin' on Nextels

We gangstas

I fold people in half, I tore people ass

But they still want to ride out as long as we see death

I get money, and I don’t need your help or friendship

But love, I’ma survive just how I been

I’ma stay alive till the day I die

But right now I’m healthy, niggas betta get up off my

A bitch is nuttin' we easily fuck it

And we possessed by the cash and these guns we bustin'…