Yo, when I roll you know the cats be out

So you cowards got no choice but to rat me out


I call in from the pen to try to see what that be 'bout


'Cuz I catch a fool slip and yo, his $$# is out

Hud, stay on the low, pop two cops


Thug, against all odds, like Tupac


I'm caked up, dog-tired from Jacob

Platinum, reach for it then wake up


For top dollar yo, I squeeze my trigger


And Lord knows, I'll lead this ^!$$%

'Cuz I'm down for whatever


Matter of fact, I'm down for the cheddar


Try to clown and get yo' $$# layed down forever

^!$$%s hate to see a G come up


Young ^!$$%s that run up get gun up


That's the real, seen the ^!$$% pass the steel

Even wink and yo' $$# get killed, all out


This is for the know-knotters


Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders

All weed smokers, Olde E sippers


All dead homies, and O.G. ^!$$%'s, throw it up


This is for the know-knotters

Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders


Whether blued out or flamed out


Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

Light up the izzy-izzy ba-ba, ask yourself, why try?


Touch the untouchable brotha that's in front of you


Harlem U.S.A be the place that I come from

Twenty-ninth and Lenox be that place I get the guns from


Vacant lots be the route that we used to run from


Thirty-second precinct until Jackie caught the dum-dum

It's hot now, cops now, all out gotta eat


Close food shop down, send them across the street


My force overheat 'cuz the cause is cheap

Reminiscin' all my homies that I lost on the streets


Dos Bruce, LB and even Stevie D


Pour some liquor out and throw it up for a G

NRB, be the click they claim to be


So if worse come to worse, do the same for me

This is for the know-knotters


Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders

All weed smokers, Olde E sippers

All dead homies, and O.G. ^!$$%'s, throw it up


This is for the know-knotters

Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders


Whether blued out or flamed out

Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

Now, we drink Colt '45, tote 45's


Smoke 'til we high, loc til' we die

Got locked up in Crenshaw

Somebody said, "Foo, what you in for?"


Jail mental', named Wendel

Did 15, and got about 10 more

Oh, he was silent than braille


In '83 was the first with hydraulics

Caught his first bid dealin' with narcotics

And had Day tons and always kept 'em polished

You taught me about khakis and converse


And if a foo' try to move then you ball first, feel me?

But now I'm stackin' my grip

Back in the trick, come out a day early is a slap on the wrist


But one time never sleep on it

I went from Harlem to L.A. fool, so speak on it

This is for the know-knotters

Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders


All weed smokers, Olde E sippers

All dead homies, and O.G. ^!$$%'s, throw it up

This is for the know-knotters


Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders

Whether blued out or flamed out

Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay

This is for the know-knotters

Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders

All weed smokers, Olde E sippers

All dead homies, and O.G. ^!$$%'s, throw it up

This is for the know-knotters

Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders

Whether blued out or flamed out

Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay