Released: February 22, 1990
Featuring: Dr. Dre
Songwriter: Aaron Schroeder Jerry Ragovoy
Producer: Eazy-E Dr. Dre Laylaw Cold 187um
[Dr. Dre]
Hey yo, check this out, y'all
Since we almost at the last song
Won't y'all kick some of that fly-ass gangsta shit?
[KMG]
Alright
Once again, a black nigga named KMG
And now it's time to drop some real pimpin' shit
Knowledge it, 'cause we livin' like hustlers
Comin' from U.S.C
For those that don't know
That's the University of South Central
So bless the 40oz
'Cause this is somethin' to jump on
Well, you can drink whatever
Like I said before, ain't nuthin' changed but the weather
'bout to take you to a higher plateau of hustlers
Hustlers beyond control
Homies ranchin', rollin' nationally, clockin' hoes
We was there when the pimpin' shit was put down
Yo, 187
(What's up, man?)
Yo, this shit is flowin'
(Muthafuckin' right, it is)
Yeah, let's take our time and do it the way a player would
(Alright)
Okay!
[Verse 1: Cold 187um & KM.G ]
Here we go, flowin' on and on
Well since we do it so well, that's the name of the song
Let's break it down, we're rollin' nationally, clockin' hoes
Well, just to turn 'em into freaks, but if they turn to foes
We don't need 'em, we know too many backstabbers now
In our face they say they're with it, behind they back they put us down
And try to clown, a player like me, 187 from 'Mona
And my homie the rancher from the city of Toners
I hit a corner, 'cause they ballers in L.A
We give our props to the homies that be clockin' on the Trey
They sayin', "What's up, G's, tell me what's happenin'
I heard you're clockin' dollars, but you're still out there rappin'"
You should know, it's my cash flow, now I'm just hangin'
With these beats called dope and these rhymes that I'm slangin'
That are so fly, we can't deny, we must reply
If we twist it in two zags, we can all get high
Off this shit, it's so legit, label it Chronic
'Cause if our rhymes was a robot, they'd all be Bionical
Get up, and get with it, if not, we feel we're owin'
Throw your hands in the air while we keep on, flowin'
[Cold 187um]
Yo KMG, I think we got 'em locked on
See, flowin' is a art from the heart of a player
So we gon' do the next one like this, man
[Verse 2: Cold 187um & KMG]
People say we have such strange vocabulary
To define these words you need a underground dictionary
Plus trey lifetimes of the inner city knowledge
And to get this, boy, you see, you can't go to college
Now see, you gotta be around when the shit goes down
Not only spectatin', man, you gotta throw down
Yeah, and chuck 'em in a bottle like if you were at Caesars
Or maybe over somethin' like money and skeezers
That's why we got this rule: first come, first serve
And if you don't know the meaning, just listen to the words
I'm sayin', I don't be playin', when I'm housin' the scene
I keep my Locs on, because I know you gon fiend
But I take them off, it's just because I'm scrappin'
But I put 'em back on as I commence to rappin'
Well, we do a show, rock the house and get paid
Take a bitch to the mote, then get laid
Send her home with a smile, 'cause it's worth her while
She to the homies how she did it and she went the mile
I'm talkin' whole nine yards, if you can understand
'Cause I'm a playin' muthafucka and I'm in demand
So flow on
[Outro: KMG]
See
Untouchable players in effect
Makin' all the big pay-offs
Callin' all the shots
Ballin'
Punishin' punk muthafuckas on the 12-gauges
I call on K-oss
Knowledge Over Sucker-Spinners
Dopeness jumpin' off
Gots to be platinum-bound
O.G. G-O, a mack, a arson, a chiller and a killer
A double-dose of the mega-flex
Like all you G's that think you're niggas with attitudes
You ain't got it like that
'Cause Ruthless done fixed that
(Hey yo, what happened to peace?)
Fuck peace
I'm outta here
Hey yo, check this out, y'all
Since we almost at the last song
Won't y'all kick some of that fly-ass gangsta shit?
[KMG]
Alright
Once again, a black nigga named KMG
And now it's time to drop some real pimpin' shit
Knowledge it, 'cause we livin' like hustlers
Comin' from U.S.C
For those that don't know
That's the University of South Central
So bless the 40oz
'Cause this is somethin' to jump on
Well, you can drink whatever
Like I said before, ain't nuthin' changed but the weather
'bout to take you to a higher plateau of hustlers
Hustlers beyond control
Homies ranchin', rollin' nationally, clockin' hoes
We was there when the pimpin' shit was put down
Yo, 187
(What's up, man?)
Yo, this shit is flowin'
(Muthafuckin' right, it is)
Yeah, let's take our time and do it the way a player would
(Alright)
Okay!
[Verse 1: Cold 187um & KM.G ]
Here we go, flowin' on and on
Well since we do it so well, that's the name of the song
Let's break it down, we're rollin' nationally, clockin' hoes
Well, just to turn 'em into freaks, but if they turn to foes
We don't need 'em, we know too many backstabbers now
In our face they say they're with it, behind they back they put us down
And try to clown, a player like me, 187 from 'Mona
And my homie the rancher from the city of Toners
I hit a corner, 'cause they ballers in L.A
We give our props to the homies that be clockin' on the Trey
They sayin', "What's up, G's, tell me what's happenin'
I heard you're clockin' dollars, but you're still out there rappin'"
You should know, it's my cash flow, now I'm just hangin'
With these beats called dope and these rhymes that I'm slangin'
That are so fly, we can't deny, we must reply
If we twist it in two zags, we can all get high
Off this shit, it's so legit, label it Chronic
'Cause if our rhymes was a robot, they'd all be Bionical
Get up, and get with it, if not, we feel we're owin'
Throw your hands in the air while we keep on, flowin'
[Cold 187um]
Yo KMG, I think we got 'em locked on
See, flowin' is a art from the heart of a player
So we gon' do the next one like this, man
[Verse 2: Cold 187um & KMG]
People say we have such strange vocabulary
To define these words you need a underground dictionary
Plus trey lifetimes of the inner city knowledge
And to get this, boy, you see, you can't go to college
Now see, you gotta be around when the shit goes down
Not only spectatin', man, you gotta throw down
Yeah, and chuck 'em in a bottle like if you were at Caesars
Or maybe over somethin' like money and skeezers
That's why we got this rule: first come, first serve
And if you don't know the meaning, just listen to the words
I'm sayin', I don't be playin', when I'm housin' the scene
I keep my Locs on, because I know you gon fiend
But I take them off, it's just because I'm scrappin'
But I put 'em back on as I commence to rappin'
Well, we do a show, rock the house and get paid
Take a bitch to the mote, then get laid
Send her home with a smile, 'cause it's worth her while
She to the homies how she did it and she went the mile
I'm talkin' whole nine yards, if you can understand
'Cause I'm a playin' muthafucka and I'm in demand
So flow on
[Outro: KMG]
See
Untouchable players in effect
Makin' all the big pay-offs
Callin' all the shots
Ballin'
Punishin' punk muthafuckas on the 12-gauges
I call on K-oss
Knowledge Over Sucker-Spinners
Dopeness jumpin' off
Gots to be platinum-bound
O.G. G-O, a mack, a arson, a chiller and a killer
A double-dose of the mega-flex
Like all you G's that think you're niggas with attitudes
You ain't got it like that
'Cause Ruthless done fixed that
(Hey yo, what happened to peace?)
Fuck peace
I'm outta here