The C-a-r-t-e-l's been here for ages
And ain't not one of them trick-ass radio stations played us

But that didn't fade us because we still gettin it on
I put the heat up under my seat and I'm gone
Bumpin the tape as I let the sun hit my Daytons

$#&@ your ratings cause this gangsta %#@! make ends
I begins hittin them corners on the block
Servin the B.G.'s the double up on the rock

I shake the spot because my face comes with fame
And it's a shame the way them rats scream my name
And I'm fashionable, I'm hittin corners international

14
I'm on my phone to see if Rhime Son's at home
(I'm in the back polishin my chrome)

I be there in a minute so we can hit the zones
To let the U.S.C. know it's still on, it's on



Gees still on the move
Westside and Eastside finna act a fool

You know it's all to the gees
Hittin switches with the S.C.C.
Radio don't give us props

It don't stop till the gangsta drop
So we gotta do it for the streets
And all the gees bumpin gangsta beats



85 Cutlass on the creep from block to block on deep dish

Killin the radio, I'm turnin it off, I'm bumpin that Bushwick
I gets my skate on, I'm flossin through the neighborhood
It's Mr. Rhime Son to the good

as I swerve to the curb in the seat
Gone off that herb and the word is I'm a gee


As we another block I lets the trunk vibrate
18's droppin them bombs like Kuwait
I put it on the Richter as the 9.2, puttin the heater in my lap

Craps - yo, what they hittin fo'? Snap
Daps is what I give to Big Prod
Cartel Gang is finna hoo-bang when we ride

Check the rear-view cause you know bustas, them mutha$#&@as
Are sneaky as hell might as well
Dip with the clip tucked, snug for the funk

B-l-u-n-t, let the system thump
And it's like that






How many of you busters...
Are thinkin about servin us? Proceed with caution
Pin him in a turnin lane before he bend Slauson

The 85 Cutlass cuffed on d's, at ease...
Up off my nut sacks, like I said ain't no get back
Trump tight as we slide on

In a Cut and Young Prod, time to get your ride on
(Locsters) Cartel ridin Rolls in the '96, unfadable
Cause we don't need no damn radio


Prod and Rhime Son on triple gold d's
Checkin out the frequencies

In a hour they ain't played the S.C.C.
But I'm a gee regardless how many marks gon' ride
On the S.C.G.'s from the Evil Side, Big Prod

(And I, Mr. Rhime Son comin with the nine gun)
In the cut slugs get bucked, so what the $#&@
Is really goin down, it ain't no changing faces

The man in the mirror is a gangster
Fo' life