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Songtexte: Baby Beesh. On tha Cool. Vamanos.


[Verse 1: Baby Bash]
Shoot me some work (Some work)
And I'm a shoot you some getback
So you can say
"Baby Bash, yeah, he did that"
That's on my buds
I always paid all my fronts
And hell nah
I don't fuck with no scary punks
Cause loose lips ain't chips in the barrio
Sometime, the grind
Seem like a party though
On the turf
On the block
In the cut, though
Block monsters
Don't give a fuck, bro
And I don't even know
Who be workin' for the piggies
See, right now a day
Everybody turn snitchy
And they don't give a damn 'bout the reprocussions
Lost six homies
And about twelve cousins
Some from L.A.
And some from Bakersfield
Some from the Bay
And some from Mackaville
Damn skippy on the jiffy
Take it from a prophet
Stay on your toes when you in the black market

[Chorus:]

[All]
VAMONOS!

[Baby Bash]
When the cops hit your block, boy

[All]
VAMONOS!

[Baby Bash]
When the heat, touch your street, boy

[All]
VAMONOS!

[Baby Bash]
Hit the task, on your ass, boy

[All]
VAMONOS!

[Baby Bash]
And we run so fast

[Repeat Chorus]

[Verse 2: Merciless]
We vida locas where my homies be screamin', I see demons on
Concrete (???), servin' clucks, cause they fiendin'
I never leaving the pad without
Packing mi cuete
Willin' to die for my block
Let them cowards come get me
Plus real pandieros
From all sides love it
Livin' this Merciless world
So I put it on my stomach
Pour out liquor for my homies who dead, but not forgotten
California got
Palms trees and beaches, but it's still rotten
Police corrupt, so who should I trust?
Just me and some real motherfuckers who down to bust
Gangstas
Hustlers
Thugs and dealers
In the projects, gotta stay grimey and pack heaters
Shoot the motherfucker cause the FED's on the roof
The type of shit
I been singin' since 1992
So vamonos, and blast him in the face
So vamonos, we already catchin' a case

[Repeat Chorus x2]

[Verse 3: Jay Tee]
I sell nickels, dime, gwhomps, shades, halves and shoulders
Til me and all my partners, sell nothin' but boulders
Every two days, I must recop
And bubble on the grind
Until I pop
I get the dope fiend money
To pump my gas
It's five dollar bills when I wipe my ass
I just hit a lick
For real big fedi
I need to get up out the game
But still, I ain't ready
I be hating how I'm livin'
I'm knowing it's wrong
I know I need to listen to the name of the song
But straightin' up
Just wouldn't be me
I might not be in the pen
But I wouldn't be free
All I do is spit nothin' but reality
Jay Tee got that hustler mentality
I'm in the streets, if you need it, mayne, just hit me
Watch what I do, when the police try to get me

[Repeat Chorus x2]

(Thanks to tha real OG for these lyrics)