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Westcoastin – Jasper Loco

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[Intro]

 

Yeah you know what it is its your boy
Big Jas once again homie with another mothafucken heater
Thats right its that g shit baby take a look into my mothafucken life

 

[Jasper]

 

I spit real scripts like a priest on Sunday
Cedar block homie and my turfs a one way
And one day, im gonna hit that run way
And on twenty eights plus I got that gunplay
That SK for a hater runnin up
Pop the fucken trunk and I spray em just like a skunk
Shattered dreams when im punchin ya spleen
Street marine on the scene assassin em clean
Fresh fit jas with a fresh fade
New shoes chipped tooth from the hard yay
The all nighter homie pass the lighter
All sick just call me micheal myers
Or Jack Nicholson
Cus you know I get the gat and pack it in my Pendleton
Sore losers so I play to win
Hate defeat no retreat ese blast on in

 

[Hook]

 

Westcoastin kush smokin
Pockets swollen gangsters rollin
I’ll put the hurtin on em and get to squirting on em
Its so real in the field when we plottin on em

 

Westcoastin kush smokin
Pockets swollen gangsters rollin
Bitches on it homies on it
L-A C-A Dog gone it

 

[Jasper]

 

And all you hoes know im stickin to the G code
I stay started like tupac when the heat blows
I stay focused like Kobe from the free throw
And if she wanna play games you let the slut go
Dont get it twisted bitches we with the business
Candy paint drippin off lows bumpin the realness
Im talking real shit make you wanna kill shit
Gettin dome’d up with a blunt its called the shiznit
So smooth but yet im so grimey
Im so hood but yet im so shiney
Thats why they lovin it
Thats why shes rubbin dick
Because youll catch me in the zone with a broken brick
You know whats up mister jas coleone
I throw it up to the los its my home
So get it good get it right
Pack it up in a fucken pipe
Take a hit hold it in break em off on sight

 

[Hook]

 

Westcoastin kush smokin
Pockets swollen gangsters rollin
I’ll put the hurtin on em and get to squirting on em
Its so real in the field when we plottin on em

 

Westcoastin kush smokin
Pockets swollen gangsters rollin
Bitches on it homies on it
L-A C-A Dog gone it

 

[Jasper]

 

From the city of fiends and dope smokers
Bonefide criminal minds and deep throwners
Dimes lay on there back I grip shoulders
Comin through time after time so move over
I use soda homie to cook quotas
Break back to basics baby to bake bolders
My steez colder jasper that east soldier
All in my zone and trust me that heats on ya
Still ride for my team
So so fresh and im crispy and clean
Two glock seventeens certified g
With the blood of a king never sleep on a dream
Cuz these L-A streets they be dangerous
They runnin up who could I trust ready to be down to bust
Bust up in a gift from god to spit this shit so tight
How could I stop gang bangin when it feels so right

 

[Hook]

 

Westcoastin kush smokin
Pockets swollen gangsters rollin
I’ll put the hurtin on em and get to squirting on em
Its so real in the field when we plottin on em

 

Westcoastin kush smokin
Pockets swollen gangsters rollin
Bitches on it homies on it
L-A C-A Dog gone it

Hustler Music – Jasper Loco

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[Midget]

See I Hustle
Pulls Some Muscle
On The Streets Of Los
PCP Diped In Frios
With My Homeboy Rascal
Serving Juice On The Daily
Just To Get Me By
Till The Homie Got Busted
On A 3 Year Rock (Fuck That)
What’s Good In The Hood
We Were Drunk As Fuck
Still Smoking Sherm Sticks
Zombied Out And Stuck
Spray Paying On The Walls
With The Big Ass Blocks
Baseheads Giving Casco
Just To Smoke That Rock
Hustling,
Doing Things That We Should Not Do
Midget Loco From The Varr
I’m A Got Damn Fool
Old School, Payed My Dues
But I Kept It True
First Flats Be My Varrio
Where You Feel One Them Blues
But We Slang And We Bang
With A Different Shirt
Same Pants, Bald Head
But We Putting In Work
The OGs In The Game Had To Hustle For Fame
But That’s Life In The Heights
Homie I Ain’t Playing

[Hook]

We Got That Hustler Music
All Them Hustlers Do it
To Patroling Through The Varrio
Let’s Chop And Screw It
It’s An Everyday Thang
Just Me And My Boys
Cappin Toys, Makin Noise
Let’n Them Bullets Deploy
We Got That Hustler Music
All Them Hustlers Do it
Synchronize In These Streets
Anyboody Can Ruin
That’s The Life That We Live
Than We Hustle To Ball
Semi-Automatic Weapons
Leave Your Face On The Wall

[Jasper]

Gee I was Broke
With Them Roaches And Rats
Catch You Spittin Fiction
While I’m Spttin The Facts
Fools Be Slanging CDs
While I’m Slanging That Crack
And They Say My Hood Drama
I’m Bringinnig it Best
I Got Some Shit On My Chest
That I Gotta Confess
At 13 Years Old
Yes, My Life was A Mess
At 13 Years Old
Caught The Zone Of The Stress
I Got The Funds
Got a Gun And Never Left It To Rest
Because I Come From the Bottom
But Climb The Top
Yeah I Made A Little Cash
But The Grind Never Stopped
36 Zips
Break Em Down To Nickles And Dimes
Numb From The Dope Fumes Burning My Eyes
It was The Struggle
Turn A Penny To Twenty
Twenty To Forty
Turn That Forty To Eighty
Bitches Are Crazy
Thinking That They Can Play Me
Matter Fact Hoe I’ll Let You Swallow My Babies

[Hook]

We Got That Hustler Music
All Them Hustlers Do it
To Patroling Through The Varrio
Let’s Chop And Screw It
It’s An Everyday Thang
Just Me And My Boys
Cappin Toys, Makin Noise
Let’n Them Bullets Deploy
We Got That Hustler Music
All Them Hustlers Do it
Synchronize In These Streets
Anyboody Can Ruin
That’s The Life That We Live
Than We Hustle To Ball
Semi-Automatic Weapons
Leave Your Face On The Wall

[Fiesty]

I Started As A Struggler
I’m Coming From The Gutter Holmes
Grew in To A Hustla
Slanging Out My Mother’s Home
I Served The Hopeless
My Lyrics Are Furocious
They Showed Enough To Rose
While My Bullets Cause Caumotion
Smoke Out In The Back
With The Killas And Soldiers
While My Sister is In The kitchen
Mixing In The Baking Soda
Paranoid From the Voices
That Ain’t Even There
I’m Shooting At The Shadows
Hear The Rings In my Ears
Disappearing in The Night
With My Eyes Open Wide
I Put Protection From A Weapon
Stronger Clached To my Side
With The Strength in My Army
You Got Me Swarming These Streets
There Ain’t No Warning For my Enemies
I’m Holding The Heat
As I’m Trippen On The Wickedness
I’m Slipping In The Darkness
Emitted By The Harnes
Still Aiming For My Targets
I Started As A Child
Than I Blossomed To A Killa
Had My Hood Sowed Up
The Reamer Street Drug Dealer

[Hook]

We Got That Hustler Music
All Them Hustlers Do it
To Patroling Through The Varrio
Let’s Chop And Screw It
It’s An Everyday Thang
Just Me And My Boys
Cappin Toys, Makin Noise
Let’n Them Bullets Deploy
We Got That Hustler Music
All Them Hustlers Do it
Synchronize In These Streets
Anyboody Can Ruin
That’s The Life That We Live
Than We Hustle To Ball
Semi-Automatic Weapons
Leave Your Face On The Wall

Crime – Charlie Row Campo

CROW

[Jokes]

Fuck a phony
You ain’t got shit on me
I’m a a solo gangbanger from the 2-1-3
Where You been at
I’ve been bustin at a Caddilacs
Pillin caps back
Smoking fat glass
In the county & you know how to smack bak
It’s a 1 time do or die throwing up that east side
So what you say lil homie I’m insane
Insane Wyno’s click and I’m down to play
You can’t fade fool, you can’t even create
Just stay in 1 place while you value with the game
I’m flippin, I’m trippin, I’m straight east dippin
On Whittier Boulevard still straight pissin
Can’t handle, it’s the life full of skandles
Many men babble, just like weed travel
Baby Jokes from that 2-1-3 baby, Charlie Row Baby

[Hook]

All about C-R-I-M-E
Money of a murder hearda in the H-Double O-O-D
With all the lil gee’s sayin
You don’t wana fuck with us
Say you don’t wana fuck with us
Duck low when the gun go bust
Enemies don’t even fuck with us

[Chino]

Money of a murder hearda in the H-Double O-O-D
With all the lil gee’s sayin
You don’t wana fuck with us
Say you don’t wana fuck with us
Duck low when the gun go bust
Enemies don’t even fuck with us

[Hook]

All about C-R-I-M-E
Money of a murder hearda in the H-Double O-O-D
With all the lil gee’s sayin
You don’t wana fuck with us
Say you don’t wana fuck with us
Duck low when the gun go bust
Enemies don’t even fuck with us

[Jasper]

It’s that dos uno fukin tres
Cause I’m strapped with the gat in the teflon vest
Free my bullets penetrate your muthafukin flesh
To the los it’s the coast of the wicked west
Real fools with the hood straight across the chest
Enemies I hope you levas rest in piss
Hit the split as I dip in the midnight mist
What’s the click hit the sprouse when were doin it
Doin that that fools strapped with the nueve gat
On the east of the streets where you know where it’s at
Fake fools get a muthafukin click clack
That’s a big fact, put you on your straight back
Southern California where the criminals with los gats
Flossin hood tats, ese with that chrome strap
You wana run up get your muthafukin face cracked
Cause it money over murder puto & it’s muthafukin like that

[Hook]

All about C-R-I-M-E
Money of a murder hearda in the H-Double O-O-D
With all the lil gee’s sayin
You don’t wana fuck with us
Say you don’t wana fuck with us
Duck low when the gun go bust
Enemies don’t even fuck with us