Songwriters: George Clinton, Kevin Gilliam, Afrika Bambaata, William Earl Collins, Bernie Worrell, Tracy Davis, John Robie, Ellis Williams, Ralf Huetter, Robert Allen, Calvin Broadus, Kewian Spillman, Arthur Baker, Kevin Mccord, Francisco Rodriguez, Emil Shulter
Eastsidaz come out and play
Eastsidaz come out and play
Eastside, one five, two, one
Two, oh, Eastside one five
Yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh
We finna show you
Motherfuckers what's happenin'
Tray Dee
Comin' in front and center state ya name and game
Yeah, them Eastsidaz back and we came to bang
(Eastside)
Givin' it up, pistols and chucks, rags hangin'
Strictly insane and we do the damn thang
It's the big bad Eastsider rollin'
Now how many blocks we controllin'
Two 0, two 1, one 5, 17 and 11
One 9 and a muthafuckin' dime
Murder block to the swamp front of grand mama house
They don't sleep, well freak off brand knock 'em out
Stay deep, bring heat make streets emorge
Young Gs, lil' Gs, casualties and war
So we push the turf steady pushin' work
Niggas love seein' thugs so we look for dirt
Where the shit don't stop and them six fours hop
If ya just get socked, don't trip gettin' dropped
All black wit' a little bit of gold
Now lemme show you motherfuckers how the Eastside roll
Footin' to the metal, every hand on stiletto
Extra clip when we book out, peace we long ghetto
I'm about to make the shit crack
We got straps in this bitch I got somethin' on fat
Tellin' you motherfuckers, damn
It ain't no thang when you bang wit' the Dogg Pound
(Dogg Pound)
(I luv it)
The way the homies come through
All blue nigga what y'all wanna do?
(I luv it)
We got hos to the left
Platinum on our chest nigga, yup, yup
(I luv it)
Can't stop, won't stop
So what that L.B.C. Like?
(I luv it)
We do the damn thang all night
Better yet fo' life
I luv it, we keepin' that shit G
'Cause that's all I see, I luv it
We always gon' roll and stay way too deep
Tray Dee, Goldie, Snoop, 'Deuces N Trayz'
Still give it to that ass the old fashion way
From the LB city, where them shells leave many
Wannabes on they knees, tryna beef wit' a gizze
Aye loc, I represent till the shit don't stop
Fuck them paramedics and them crooked ass cops
It's hard to maintain on the front line
Check this out 'cuz I gotta get mine
Low ridahs, Eastsidaz comin' wit' that G shit
People want some of this? Hell naw trick
I'm keepin' that shit gangsta
Yeah, C-walkin' on you pranksters, nigga
We don't really give a mad fuck nigga what?
Gettin' mad stuck, catch you comin' out the cut
Hoo ridin', G ridin' fuck the law
Better hope you on my side once I clutch and draw
My reactions, attractions, fast and all actions
Till I die east the side, I stay smashin'
Represent this like its meant to see
To the graveyard or the penetentary
(I luv it)
The way the homies come through
All blue nigga what y'all wanna do?
(I luv it)
We got hos to the left
Platinum on our chest nigga, yup, yup
(I luv it)
Can't stop, won't stop
So what that L.B.C. Like?
(I luv it)
We do the damn thang all night
Better yet fo' life
Zoom
Zoom
Zoom
I am Sir Dogg, D P G funk and I am Crip
I never learned to Crip
Oh no, put me down, let go of my legs
I'll never C-walk, do the time of life
You have the time of your life, hey, ha
Oh yeah, what's Crip-a-lat'n baby?
Eastsidaz, 'Duces 'N Trayz
The old fashioned way
Somethin' uh, to make you move, groove
And definitely sets the mood
It's so, uh, gangsta, it's so, uh, prankster
It's the hoodie, hoodie, goodie, goodie
To lick ya boogie oggie, oggie
Can ya dig what I'm talkin' 'bout, I smell ya Battle Cat
Now that's funky, that's so funky, I have to say, uh
Eastsidaz come back
Eastsidaz come back
Eastsidaz come back
Eastsidaz come back
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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