Give It Up – Damu Ridas – letras

16 months in the pen, now I’m fresh outScars on my knuckles from the Crabs that I socked outSportin’ all red with the bald-headPumpin’ lead with the infra-red, leavin’ Crabs all deadFresh red Tay’? Hat with the fubuStand B’d up fool fuck wearin’ boo-booWest Side Killers claimin’ Denver AvenueAnd ain’t goin’ likeI f*ck Crab bitches too with my hat onI peel the Crab hood get my gat onFlue hat and flue strings, you won’t catch me with that onBut you can catch me in a party throwin’ a Blood walk (woop woop)Definitely dumb the Crab language, all I know is Blood talk likeBoda born nuts bandy boffee and bigarettesNiggas and niggarettes, red rubber bands and berettes yeahI’m sneakin’ in Crab funerals like a spyJust to see Crabs’ moma cryGive it upWoop! Woop!We all down too buzzWoop! Woop!If you bangin’ nigga give it upAnd it’s the type of shit gon’ send me back to jailTo bustin’ on niggas with Gauge shellF*ck around and I’ma bailAttack you with it, step you with itTake your money and cap you with itTell your girl I’ma mack you with itWhite and red pearlCadillac you with itFace to face I might shake you with itI’m on? With itWest Coast see was saggin’ with carrying itRat pack crossing ’em out on the Denver with itBloods gangster and Crabs are scary with itGive it upWoop! Woop!We all down too buzzWoop! Woop!If you bangin’ nigga give it upI just back to the hoodAnd I’ve already heard some bad newThe homie just got shot it by some Crab foolWe ’bout to get this nigga’s back, grab the Mac, we about to goFront Venice and catch this buster niggas on the roadOr maybe routeOn westAt the liquor storeWe about to catch him while he’s slippin’ and just kill him knowI hate Crabs from heart I let them? CollarAnd represent with only real motherf*ckersNo bustas allowedYou know about this gangster shitBustin’ on niggas that hate the gang I’m hangin’ withNiggas in the wrong colors gettin’ tossed upCan’t go if you ain’t gon’ bustIf I die – bury meHang my balls in the tree on F-I-GIf they fallTake about itI bet it they taste like a 109Give it upWoop! Woop!We all down too buzzWoop! Woop!Red strings in our ChucksHennebyAnd a gang of weedAnd a proper-ass bitch to skeezOne-two? Cannot buckles? In my shoesJust right red strings, sportin’ Dickies and hangJoy riding off P. TAnd my momma call when my Doggs jumpin’ out sockin’ Crabs I don’t D. PDirty Chucks in the jail houseQuick to push up this situation now it dips and push upsThey get pumped upTo run up and get socked upBacked on with the hood blocked outB-Braze 9? Of braids (woop wopp)Red strings, Figueroa gangTired of y’all niggas tryin’ to bite the woopSo I’m dumpin’ out on you fools out the Broam Six-Deuce (woop wopp)I’m a G-ride drivin’, C-K Ridin’Damu Blood bangin’Fuck what you claimin’Aimin’ 4-5’s and 9’sThrowin’ gang signPut the infra-red beam BloodGet ’em everytimeGive it upWoop! Woop!We all down too buzzWoop! Woop!Red strings in our ChucksHennebyAnd a gang of weedAnd a proper-ass bitch to skeez