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letra de cali chronic (remix) - harlem world

[loon]
turn it up

(verse 1)
[loon] yo, when i roll, you know the gats 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
cause i catch a fool, slip and yo, his -ss is out
[huddy combs] hud
stay on the low
pop two cops
thug
against all odds
like 2pac
i’m caged up
dog-tired from jacob
platinum – reach for it, then wake up
[loon] for top dollar, yo, i squeeze my trigger
and lord knows, i’ll lead this n-gga
cause i’m down for whatever
matter of fact, i’m down for the cheddar
try to clown a n-gga and get your -ss layed down forever
[huddy combs] n-ggas hate to see a g come up
young n-ggas that run up
get gun up
that’s for real
seen a n-gga p-ss the steel
even wink, and your -ss get k!lled
all out

chorus: meeno
this is for the know-knotters
six-four riders
all the ones are lowriders
all weed smokers
olde e. sippers
all dead homies and o.g. n-ggas
throw it up
this is for the know-knotters
six-four riders
all the ones in lowriders
leather blue’d out
or flamed out
mask on, ridin’ with them big things out
yay-i-yay

[verse 2: meeno]
light up the
izzy-izzy ba-ba, ask yourself, why try?
touch the untouchable
brother that’s in front of you
harlem u.s.a. be the place that i come from
29th 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 fool’s shop down, send him ‘cross the street
my force overheat, cause 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 cl!ck they claim to be
so if worse come to worse, do the same for me

repeat chorus

[verse 3: snoop dogg]
welcome to my world, n-gga
where it’s v.i.p
and the b-tches and the bud for free
we raisin’ it up
dippin’ (uh hun)
givin’ it up
i’m blazin’ it up, we crippin’ {-inhale-}
not givin’ a [{-f-ck-}] (what?)
now as i
walk through your backyard, knockin’ down your trash
you move too fast, i’m quick to bite you on your -ss {-growl-}
ain’t no leash in a beach
dawg, we mops
and dustin’ off mobs (uh hun)
is our jobs
heat tucked close
he cutthroat (what?)
we cut close
for real, though
jd, how you feel, though
fresh off the plane, n-gga, lax
snoopy, where the weed at (where the [{-weed-}] at)
n-gga, you know i’m on deck
i’m in a lowrider, stretched out with a bulletproof vest
cause every n-gga out west think he scarface or elliot ness
look what the wind, blew in, i’m off that hen
toss the gin (toss it)
i brought some friends, we hollin’ “harlem world!”

repeat chorus twice

- harlem world

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