Get off me
I pull quick, it's useless
I'm fully clipped, 6 fo' fully dipped
Throw chrome whip with three freaks and full hips with firm tits
Yeah we fully chipped, been on gangsta shit
It's ruthless, drunk off two fifths
Who make hits? (
Who we wit? (Knoc)
Westcoast parties don't stop
Who drop head-boppers? (The head doctor, bed-rocker)
Police pursue me in squad cars and helicopters
Checkin lockers, Mexican connect to play soccer
PH's and cockblockers
Ho-hoppers, weez niggaz is off the rocker
Sippin cranberry juice on rocks with vodka
With 'Pac and Poppa, and Redd Foxx's doctor (for real?)
Takin names and takin orders
Ya fake ya name, and I'm all up on ya
Nigga that's Cali-fornia
Palm trees and 6-3's on deez
Rims dip to make the spokes gold-a
Slangin boulders, thought I told ya
True soldiers, comin from the motherfuckin shoulders (WOOP!)
Take it ea-say! (ea-say)
'Cause it's the motherfuckin KNOC!
Hotter than yo' block fulla motherfuckin COPS!
Bow down when ya see me!
Knoc the truth best believe it!
Take it ea-say! (ea-say)
'Cause it's the motherfuckin KNOC! Hotter than a freak who givin head who won't STOP!
Bow down when ya pass through!
Knoc-turn'al God damn you!
What's the difference between us? (Nah not that again)
New songs, and new cars, and new broads, and new thongs
On Crenshaw Boulevard - Line 'em up at the bar
Girl you know who we are, hip-hop superstars
Roll deep? Nah, we roll hard and deep
Bogart yo beef get the fuck off my street
Getcha motherfuckin ass beat
L.A., Compton, Long Beach, whooptie-whoop nigga what?
I don't give a fuck
Hustlers, hood-rats, sick-ass thugs - Crips and Bloods
(Hell nigg-uh!) All my real niggaz raise it up
Nuttin but dubs, you got a sack, nigga what?
Blaze it up
Bitch you ain't 'bout shit, my bad
Turn off the lights, don't trip
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Give a nig' some ack right and act like..
You might.. lick balls tonight
Girls all pause, hell nah, girls drop draws on site
Do drugs, shroom cups, smoke bud, all night
That's right, I like.. bi-sexual women, fuck dykes
Suck dick? No, but your father might
Duck the IRS, fuckin Howard Stern's wife
In traffic, bitch gave me head in real life
L.A. city lights, C.A. get it right
Westcoast on the grind, these niggaz done lost they minds
Straight loungin in the sunshine
Here's one thing you bitch niggaz must know
Fuck you! Please believe that, and I mean that
Lyrics © Royalty Network
Song writers: ROYAL HARBOR / ANDRE YOUNG / W. SIBLEY JR. / F. PALACIOS / R. SLOAN / MELISSA ELLIOT