Bloods & Crips
I Killed Ya’ Dead Homies
*Scratches and gunshots*

[Verse 1: Redrum 781]
It's not the East Coast Locsta but more like the ?eastern chicken choker?
After I pluck your feathers, n***a then I’ma roast ya
I know the spots in the whole nine
And if you catch me I'll be holdin' the chrome nine, so
Big baby boo, drink a bottle of brew
Brazy blood hit the button ’til the game is through
I wasn't down with the truce, down with the trues
P up to the ‘Rus on ?? and Spruce
I'm givin' a shoutout to them nine, eight and four blocks
The ABE news and that's where the buck stops
My homies roll deep when they creep, never solo
What's up to the 104 street mafioso?
The sinister Center Park boys straight servin'
Operatin' on the crabs like a wild pack of soldiers
Dip, say fuzz and I’ll be bustin’ caps
So make a dash to Florence from right into the ??
Straps are pulled if you're wearin’ flue
Shot down by the guy in the neighborhood Piru
Fools you lose, n***a, you don't know me
But yo, here's a hint, I killed your dead homies

“Take that muthafuckas”
*Scratches and gunshots*
[Verse 2: Red Ragg AKA Big Wy]
Constantly it's a muthafuckin’ shame
N***as think they wrote the rules to the fuckin' game
Plan a n***a too damn far to the left
So now I gotta creep and make a sound, watch they step
It's another day of bein' paid, it's a must
Gotta have my hands on some “in God we trust”
I don't have a plan, or who I'm gone hit
But whoever it be, they better know I don't bullshit
‘Cause sometimes crabs get the wrong n***as twisted
And some has missed it but the striped cross - many crabs kissed it
The ones that miss real quick try to duck
But run, the fuck? Right, smack dead to a uppercut
You better think twice ‘fore you rolls the dice
‘Cause you're dealin' with a n***a that ain't nothin' nice
You can either run, say no, or go toe to toe
Take these blow for blow but when it's over I'm the winner though
‘Cause I do this shit for survival
And if I don't fool, you'll be dead on arrival
So to those n***as that know me
You better watch out, keep a grip on your homies

“Take that muthafuckas”
*Scratches and gunshots*

[Verse 3: Redrum 781]
N***as are caught slippin' and crippin', or should I say crip-pled?
Better yet dead when I put the gat up to his temple
Easily I squeeze on the fools wearin' flues
Rollin' down the Avenue, it's a ?? Piru
Bang to the chest, hot hollow tip lead
?? blood that runnin' deep as I put one in his head
Sure shot, I got the Glock cocked at all times
Call me Redman, ‘cause damn I'm about to “Blow Your Mind”
You can always find me on the nine block
Puttin' shells in your homies of my nine stops
Most definitely I gotta kill some *cops*
And to all Blood gangstas give up props
Blockin' up my hood in your hood so what's up now?
No retaliation ‘cause your set is a ghost town
Six feet deep in the dirt, we got
Flicks of your G's all wearin' mini skirts
And a doctor wanna peep me so I'm outie
The B to the L to the double-O-D
I shot your big brother and I left his bitch lonely
Now you know who killed your dead homies
“Take that muthafuckas”
*Scratches and gunshots*