[{"id":34392627,"name":"187","trackName":"187","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"The Book Of C-Bo","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:41.02] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:42.95] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:45.96] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:47.91] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[00:50.95] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[00:54.05] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[00:56.93] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:00.08] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:02.04] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:05.09] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:08.02] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:11.05] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:13.09] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:16.05] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:19.03] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:22.03] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:24.18] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:27.15] (murder murder)\n[01:29.15] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:32.17] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:34.12] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:36.11] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:38.11] (murder murder)\n[01:39.14] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:42.16] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:45.12] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:47.12] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:49.23] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[01:50.21] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[01:53.27] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[01:56.22] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[01:59.13] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:01.23] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:04.28] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:07.35] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:10.39] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:12.34] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:13.39] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:16.37] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:18.39] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:21.38] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:23.30] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:27.34] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:30.37] Dub and C-BO\n[02:55.36] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[02:57.36] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:00.31] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:03.44] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:06.42] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:08.47] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:11.41] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:14.45] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:17.48] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:19.53] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:22.59] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:25.55] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:27.56] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:30.51] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:33.58] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:36.67] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:38.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: '187'\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: The Book Of C-Bo\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 41020\n  end_ms: 42950\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 42950\n  end_ms: 45960\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 45960\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 50950\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 50950\n  end_ms: 54050\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 54050\n  end_ms: 56930\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 56930\n  end_ms: 60080\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 60080\n  end_ms: 62040\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 62040\n  end_ms: 65090\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 65090\n  end_ms: 68020\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 68020\n  end_ms: 71050\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 71050\n  end_ms: 73090\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 73090\n  end_ms: 76050\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 76050\n  end_ms: 79030\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 79030\n  end_ms: 82030\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 82030\n  end_ms: 84180\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 84180\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 92170\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 92170\n  end_ms: 94120\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 94120\n  end_ms: 96110\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 96110\n  end_ms: 98110\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 98110\n  end_ms: 99140\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 99140\n  end_ms: 102160\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 102160\n  end_ms: 105120\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 105120\n  end_ms: 107120\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 107120\n  end_ms: 109230\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 109230\n  end_ms: 110210\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 110210\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116220\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 116220\n  end_ms: 119130\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 119130\n  end_ms: 121230\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 121230\n  end_ms: 124280\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 124280\n  end_ms: 127350\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 127350\n  end_ms: 130390\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 130390\n  end_ms: 132340\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 132340\n  end_ms: 133390\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 133390\n  end_ms: 136370\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 136370\n  end_ms: 138390\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 138390\n  end_ms: 141380\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 141380\n  end_ms: 143300\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 143300\n  end_ms: 147340\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 147340\n  end_ms: 150370\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 150370\n  end_ms: 175360\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 175360\n  end_ms: 177360\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 177360\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 186420\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 186420\n  end_ms: 188470\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 188470\n  end_ms: 191410\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 191410\n  end_ms: 194450\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 194450\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 199530\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 199530\n  end_ms: 202590\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 202590\n  end_ms: 205550\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 205550\n  end_ms: 207560\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 207560\n  end_ms: 210510\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 210510\n  end_ms: 213580\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 213580\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 218690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 218690\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":16522004,"name":"187","trackName":"187","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"Orca","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:41.02] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:42.95] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:45.96] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:47.91] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[00:50.95] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[00:54.05] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[00:56.93] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:00.08] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:02.04] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:05.09] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:08.02] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:11.05] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:13.09] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:16.05] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:19.03] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:22.03] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:24.18] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:27.15] (murder murder)\n[01:29.15] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:32.17] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:34.12] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:36.11] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:38.11] (murder murder)\n[01:39.14] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:42.16] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:45.12] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:47.12] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:49.23] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[01:50.21] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[01:53.27] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[01:56.22] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[01:59.13] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:01.23] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:04.28] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:07.35] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:10.39] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:12.34] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:13.39] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:16.37] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:18.39] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:21.38] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:23.30] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:27.34] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:30.37] Dub and C-BO\n[02:55.36] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[02:57.36] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:00.31] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:03.44] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:06.42] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:08.47] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:11.41] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:14.45] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:17.48] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:19.53] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:22.59] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:25.55] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:27.56] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:30.51] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:33.58] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:36.67] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:38.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: '187'\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: Orca\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 41020\n  end_ms: 42950\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 42950\n  end_ms: 45960\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 45960\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 50950\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 50950\n  end_ms: 54050\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 54050\n  end_ms: 56930\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 56930\n  end_ms: 60080\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 60080\n  end_ms: 62040\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 62040\n  end_ms: 65090\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 65090\n  end_ms: 68020\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 68020\n  end_ms: 71050\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 71050\n  end_ms: 73090\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 73090\n  end_ms: 76050\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 76050\n  end_ms: 79030\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 79030\n  end_ms: 82030\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 82030\n  end_ms: 84180\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 84180\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89150\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 89150\n  end_ms: 92170\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 92170\n  end_ms: 94120\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 94120\n  end_ms: 96110\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 96110\n  end_ms: 98110\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 98110\n  end_ms: 99140\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 99140\n  end_ms: 102160\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 102160\n  end_ms: 105120\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 105120\n  end_ms: 107120\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 107120\n  end_ms: 109230\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 109230\n  end_ms: 110210\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 110210\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116220\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 116220\n  end_ms: 119130\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 119130\n  end_ms: 121230\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 121230\n  end_ms: 124280\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 124280\n  end_ms: 127350\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 127350\n  end_ms: 130390\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 130390\n  end_ms: 132340\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 132340\n  end_ms: 133390\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 133390\n  end_ms: 136370\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 136370\n  end_ms: 138390\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 138390\n  end_ms: 141380\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 141380\n  end_ms: 143300\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 143300\n  end_ms: 147340\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 147340\n  end_ms: 150370\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 150370\n  end_ms: 175360\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 175360\n  end_ms: 177360\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 177360\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183440\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 183440\n  end_ms: 186420\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 186420\n  end_ms: 188470\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 188470\n  end_ms: 191410\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 191410\n  end_ms: 194450\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 194450\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 199530\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 199530\n  end_ms: 202590\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 202590\n  end_ms: 205550\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 205550\n  end_ms: 207560\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 207560\n  end_ms: 210510\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 210510\n  end_ms: 213580\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 213580\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 218690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 218690\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":37061833,"name":"187","trackName":"187","artistName":"C‐Bo","albumName":"Orca","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:41.03] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:42.95] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:45.90] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:47.91] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[00:50.94] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[00:54.00] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[00:56.94] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:00.02] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:02.07] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:05.01] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:08.03] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:11.03] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:13.04] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:16.01] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:19.04] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:22.08] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:24.10] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:27.18] (murder murder)\n[01:29.18] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:32.15] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:34.14] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:36.19] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:38.14] (murder murder)\n[01:39.11] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:42.19] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:45.15] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:47.12] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:49.22] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[01:50.24] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[01:53.28] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[01:56.24] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[01:59.18] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:01.24] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:04.24] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:07.39] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:10.39] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:12.35] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:13.34] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:16.31] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:18.34] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:21.36] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:23.35] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:27.36] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:30.30] Dub and C-BO\n[02:55.36] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[02:57.30] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:00.39] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:03.46] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:06.48] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:08.47] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:11.42] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:14.42] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:17.47] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:19.56] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:22.54] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:25.56] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:27.51] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:30.56] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:33.58] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:36.66] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:38.65] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: '187'\n  artist: C‐Bo\n  album: Orca\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 41030\n  end_ms: 42950\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 42950\n  end_ms: 45900\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 45900\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 50940\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 50940\n  end_ms: 54000\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 54000\n  end_ms: 56940\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 56940\n  end_ms: 60020\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 60020\n  end_ms: 62070\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 62070\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68030\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 68030\n  end_ms: 71030\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 71030\n  end_ms: 73040\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 73040\n  end_ms: 76010\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 76010\n  end_ms: 79040\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 79040\n  end_ms: 82080\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 82080\n  end_ms: 84100\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 84100\n  end_ms: 87180\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 87180\n  end_ms: 89180\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 89180\n  end_ms: 92150\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 92150\n  end_ms: 94140\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 94140\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98140\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 98140\n  end_ms: 99110\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 99110\n  end_ms: 102190\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 102190\n  end_ms: 105150\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 105150\n  end_ms: 107120\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 107120\n  end_ms: 109220\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 109220\n  end_ms: 110240\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 110240\n  end_ms: 113280\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 113280\n  end_ms: 116240\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 116240\n  end_ms: 119180\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 119180\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 124240\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 124240\n  end_ms: 127390\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 127390\n  end_ms: 130390\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 130390\n  end_ms: 132350\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 132350\n  end_ms: 133340\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 133340\n  end_ms: 136310\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 136310\n  end_ms: 138340\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 138340\n  end_ms: 141360\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 141360\n  end_ms: 143350\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 143350\n  end_ms: 147360\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 147360\n  end_ms: 150300\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 150300\n  end_ms: 175360\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 175360\n  end_ms: 177300\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 177300\n  end_ms: 180390\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 180390\n  end_ms: 183460\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 183460\n  end_ms: 186480\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 186480\n  end_ms: 188470\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 188470\n  end_ms: 191420\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 191420\n  end_ms: 194420\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 194420\n  end_ms: 197470\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 197470\n  end_ms: 199560\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 199560\n  end_ms: 202540\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 202540\n  end_ms: 205560\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 205560\n  end_ms: 207510\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 207510\n  end_ms: 210560\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 210560\n  end_ms: 213580\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 213580\n  end_ms: 216660\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 216660\n  end_ms: 218650\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 218650\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":32023523,"name":"187 Dance","trackName":"187 Dance","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"Diary of the Originator","duration":311.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Verse 1: C-Bo]\nTop down, side ways through the town\nSuckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\nLets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\nPop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\nStraight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\nThe gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\nCuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\nSo put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\nP-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\nI guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\nWe load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\nSo put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\nDrop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\nIt's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\nPop the clip with a mack-10\nHop out the truck and drop that grin\nCuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\nSo make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\nCuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\nSo don't be starting\nYou wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\nChiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\nWho ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\nCuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\nIn the strip, poppin they clip\nPuttin in work, letting it rip\nAs they keep fallin\nthe day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\nNo time for stallin\nA .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\nCuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\nIt's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\nProceed with caution\nuz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\nDead bodies are bridges\nOne to the head, then broke out in ditches\nBefore you step to the psycopath lunatic\nH ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n[gun cocked]\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked]\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n[Verse 2: C-Bo]\nI woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\nthinking that I'm dead\nSurprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\nI knew it was over\nBo Loc done got struck in the game\nPo-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\nAnd I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\nNow on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\nDamn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\nCuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\nIn the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\nWhere suckas be getting that ass tucked\nIt's off the? and off the buck\nAnd I believe in eight millions of ways to die\nCuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\nThen you believe in getting fried\nSnatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\nGot crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\nBut I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\nLast night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\nAnd I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\nShotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\nThen out the do' on my - face\nHands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\nCant fight back cuz I'm shackled\nfrom my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\nThey drug me down to the county\nTook three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\nG, the stuff got hectic\nGetting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\nIm coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\nFor every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\nOne kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\nI made a G-move\nSo? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\nI'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n187 dance on these punk suckas\nTry to take ya boy out the game like a busta\nNow they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\nWith the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n[Outro]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n[repeat Outro to fade]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 Dance\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: Diary of the Originator\n  duration_ms: 311000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Verse 1: C-Bo]\n  Top down, side ways through the town\n  Suckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\n  Lets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\n  Pop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\n  Straight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\n  The gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\n  Cuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\n  So put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n  45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\n  P-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\n  I guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\n  We load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\n  So put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\n  Drop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\n  It's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\n  Pop the clip with a mack-10\n  Hop out the truck and drop that grin\n  Cuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\n  So make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\n  Cuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\n  So don't be starting\n  You wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\n  Chiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\n  Who ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\n  Cuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\n  In the strip, poppin they clip\n  Puttin in work, letting it rip\n  As they keep fallin\n  the day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\n  No time for stallin\n  A .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\n  Cuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\n  It's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\n  Proceed with caution\n  uz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\n  Dead bodies are bridges\n  One to the head, then broke out in ditches\n  Before you step to the psycopath lunatic\n  H ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n  [gun cocked]\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked]\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n  [Verse 2: C-Bo]\n  I woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\n  thinking that I'm dead\n  Surprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\n  I knew it was over\n  Bo Loc done got struck in the game\n  Po-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\n  And I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\n  Now on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\n  Damn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\n  Cuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\n  In the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\n  Where suckas be getting that ass tucked\n  It's off the? and off the buck\n  And I believe in eight millions of ways to die\n  Cuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\n  Then you believe in getting fried\n  Snatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\n  Got crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\n  But I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\n  Last night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\n  And I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\n  Shotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\n  Then out the do' on my - face\n  Hands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\n  Cant fight back cuz I'm shackled\n  from my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\n  They drug me down to the county\n  Took three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\n  G, the stuff got hectic\n  Getting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\n  Im coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\n  For every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\n  One kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\n  I made a G-move\n  So? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\n  I'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n  187 dance on these punk suckas\n  Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta\n  Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\n  With the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n  [Outro]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n  [repeat Outro to fade]\n"},{"id":20990053,"name":"187 Dance","trackName":"187 Dance","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"Chapter 226. Million Dollar Hands","duration":311.196735,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Verse 1: C-Bo]\nTop down, side ways through the town\nSuckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\nLets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\nPop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\nStraight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\nThe gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\nCuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\nSo put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\nP-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\nI guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\nWe load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\nSo put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\nDrop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\nIt's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\nPop the clip with a mack-10\nHop out the truck and drop that grin\nCuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\nSo make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\nCuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\nSo don't be starting\nYou wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\nChiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\nWho ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\nCuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\nIn the strip, poppin they clip\nPuttin in work, letting it rip\nAs they keep fallin\nthe day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\nNo time for stallin\nA .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\nCuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\nIt's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\nProceed with caution\nuz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\nDead bodies are bridges\nOne to the head, then broke out in ditches\nBefore you step to the psycopath lunatic\nH ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n[gun cocked]\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked]\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n[Verse 2: C-Bo]\nI woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\nthinking that I'm dead\nSurprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\nI knew it was over\nBo Loc done got struck in the game\nPo-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\nAnd I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\nNow on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\nDamn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\nCuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\nIn the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\nWhere suckas be getting that ass tucked\nIt's off the? and off the buck\nAnd I believe in eight millions of ways to die\nCuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\nThen you believe in getting fried\nSnatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\nGot crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\nBut I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\nLast night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\nAnd I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\nShotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\nThen out the do' on my - face\nHands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\nCant fight back cuz I'm shackled\nfrom my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\nThey drug me down to the county\nTook three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\nG, the stuff got hectic\nGetting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\nIm coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\nFor every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\nOne kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\nI made a G-move\nSo? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\nI'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n187 dance on these punk suckas\nTry to take ya boy out the game like a busta\nNow they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\nWith the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n[Outro]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n[repeat Outro to fade]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 Dance\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: Chapter 226. Million Dollar Hands\n  duration_ms: 311197\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Verse 1: C-Bo]\n  Top down, side ways through the town\n  Suckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\n  Lets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\n  Pop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\n  Straight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\n  The gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\n  Cuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\n  So put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n  45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\n  P-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\n  I guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\n  We load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\n  So put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\n  Drop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\n  It's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\n  Pop the clip with a mack-10\n  Hop out the truck and drop that grin\n  Cuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\n  So make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\n  Cuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\n  So don't be starting\n  You wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\n  Chiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\n  Who ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\n  Cuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\n  In the strip, poppin they clip\n  Puttin in work, letting it rip\n  As they keep fallin\n  the day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\n  No time for stallin\n  A .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\n  Cuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\n  It's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\n  Proceed with caution\n  uz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\n  Dead bodies are bridges\n  One to the head, then broke out in ditches\n  Before you step to the psycopath lunatic\n  H ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n  [gun cocked]\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked]\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n  [Verse 2: C-Bo]\n  I woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\n  thinking that I'm dead\n  Surprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\n  I knew it was over\n  Bo Loc done got struck in the game\n  Po-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\n  And I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\n  Now on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\n  Damn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\n  Cuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\n  In the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\n  Where suckas be getting that ass tucked\n  It's off the? and off the buck\n  And I believe in eight millions of ways to die\n  Cuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\n  Then you believe in getting fried\n  Snatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\n  Got crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\n  But I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\n  Last night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\n  And I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\n  Shotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\n  Then out the do' on my - face\n  Hands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\n  Cant fight back cuz I'm shackled\n  from my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\n  They drug me down to the county\n  Took three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\n  G, the stuff got hectic\n  Getting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\n  Im coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\n  For every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\n  One kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\n  I made a G-move\n  So? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\n  I'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n  187 dance on these punk suckas\n  Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta\n  Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\n  With the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n  [Outro]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n  [repeat Outro to fade]\n"},{"id":19926507,"name":"187 Dance","trackName":"187 Dance","artistName":"C‐Bo","albumName":"Tales From The Crypt","duration":245.6266752,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Verse 1: C-Bo]\nTop down, side ways through the town\nSuckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\nLets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\nPop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\nStraight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\nThe gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\nCuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\nSo put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\nP-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\nI guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\nWe load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\nSo put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\nDrop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\nIt's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\nPop the clip with a mack-10\nHop out the truck and drop that grin\nCuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\nSo make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\nCuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\nSo don't be starting\nYou wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\nChiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\nWho ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\nCuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\nIn the strip, poppin they clip\nPuttin in work, letting it rip\nAs they keep fallin\nthe day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\nNo time for stallin\nA .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\nCuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\nIt's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\nProceed with caution\nuz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\nDead bodies are bridges\nOne to the head, then broke out in ditches\nBefore you step to the psycopath lunatic\nH ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n[gun cocked]\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked]\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n[Verse 2: C-Bo]\nI woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\nthinking that I'm dead\nSurprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\nI knew it was over\nBo Loc done got struck in the game\nPo-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\nAnd I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\nNow on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\nDamn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\nCuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\nIn the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\nWhere suckas be getting that ass tucked\nIt's off the? and off the buck\nAnd I believe in eight millions of ways to die\nCuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\nThen you believe in getting fried\nSnatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\nGot crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\nBut I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\nLast night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\nAnd I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\nShotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\nThen out the do' on my - face\nHands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\nCant fight back cuz I'm shackled\nfrom my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\nThey drug me down to the county\nTook three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\nG, the stuff got hectic\nGetting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\nIm coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\nFor every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\nOne kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\nI made a G-move\nSo? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\nI'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n187 dance on these punk suckas\nTry to take ya boy out the game like a busta\nNow they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\nWith the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n[Outro]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n[repeat Outro to fade]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 Dance\n  artist: C‐Bo\n  album: Tales From The Crypt\n  duration_ms: 245627\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Verse 1: C-Bo]\n  Top down, side ways through the town\n  Suckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\n  Lets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\n  Pop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\n  Straight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\n  The gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\n  Cuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\n  So put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n  45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\n  P-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\n  I guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\n  We load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\n  So put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\n  Drop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\n  It's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\n  Pop the clip with a mack-10\n  Hop out the truck and drop that grin\n  Cuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\n  So make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\n  Cuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\n  So don't be starting\n  You wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\n  Chiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\n  Who ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\n  Cuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\n  In the strip, poppin they clip\n  Puttin in work, letting it rip\n  As they keep fallin\n  the day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\n  No time for stallin\n  A .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\n  Cuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\n  It's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\n  Proceed with caution\n  uz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\n  Dead bodies are bridges\n  One to the head, then broke out in ditches\n  Before you step to the psycopath lunatic\n  H ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n  [gun cocked]\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked]\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n  [Verse 2: C-Bo]\n  I woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\n  thinking that I'm dead\n  Surprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\n  I knew it was over\n  Bo Loc done got struck in the game\n  Po-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\n  And I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\n  Now on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\n  Damn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\n  Cuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\n  In the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\n  Where suckas be getting that ass tucked\n  It's off the? and off the buck\n  And I believe in eight millions of ways to die\n  Cuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\n  Then you believe in getting fried\n  Snatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\n  Got crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\n  But I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\n  Last night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\n  And I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\n  Shotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\n  Then out the do' on my - face\n  Hands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\n  Cant fight back cuz I'm shackled\n  from my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\n  They drug me down to the county\n  Took three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\n  G, the stuff got hectic\n  Getting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\n  Im coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\n  For every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\n  One kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\n  I made a G-move\n  So? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\n  I'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n  187 dance on these punk suckas\n  Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta\n  Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\n  With the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n  [Outro]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n  [repeat Outro to fade]\n"},{"id":18810548,"name":"187 Dance","trackName":"187 Dance","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"DJ Screw: Million Dollar Hands","duration":311.196735,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Verse 1: C-Bo]\nTop down, side ways through the town\nSuckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\nLets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\nPop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\nStraight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\nThe gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\nCuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\nSo put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\nP-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\nI guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\nWe load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\nSo put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\nDrop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\nIt's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\nPop the clip with a mack-10\nHop out the truck and drop that grin\nCuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\nSo make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\nCuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\nSo don't be starting\nYou wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\nChiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\nWho ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\nCuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\nIn the strip, poppin they clip\nPuttin in work, letting it rip\nAs they keep fallin\nthe day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\nNo time for stallin\nA .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\nCuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\nIt's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\nProceed with caution\nuz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\nDead bodies are bridges\nOne to the head, then broke out in ditches\nBefore you step to the psycopath lunatic\nH ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n[gun cocked]\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked]\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n[Verse 2: C-Bo]\nI woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\nthinking that I'm dead\nSurprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\nI knew it was over\nBo Loc done got struck in the game\nPo-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\nAnd I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\nNow on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\nDamn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\nCuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\nIn the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\nWhere suckas be getting that ass tucked\nIt's off the? and off the buck\nAnd I believe in eight millions of ways to die\nCuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\nThen you believe in getting fried\nSnatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\nGot crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\nBut I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\nLast night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\nAnd I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\nShotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\nThen out the do' on my - face\nHands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\nCant fight back cuz I'm shackled\nfrom my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\nThey drug me down to the county\nTook three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\nG, the stuff got hectic\nGetting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\nIm coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\nFor every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\nOne kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\nI made a G-move\nSo? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\nI'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n187 dance on these punk suckas\nTry to take ya boy out the game like a busta\nNow they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\nWith the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n[Outro]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n[repeat Outro to fade]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 Dance\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: 'DJ Screw: Million Dollar Hands'\n  duration_ms: 311197\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Verse 1: C-Bo]\n  Top down, side ways through the town\n  Suckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\n  Lets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\n  Pop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\n  Straight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\n  The gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\n  Cuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\n  So put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n  45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\n  P-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\n  I guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\n  We load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\n  So put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\n  Drop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\n  It's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\n  Pop the clip with a mack-10\n  Hop out the truck and drop that grin\n  Cuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\n  So make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\n  Cuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\n  So don't be starting\n  You wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\n  Chiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\n  Who ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\n  Cuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\n  In the strip, poppin they clip\n  Puttin in work, letting it rip\n  As they keep fallin\n  the day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\n  No time for stallin\n  A .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\n  Cuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\n  It's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\n  Proceed with caution\n  uz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\n  Dead bodies are bridges\n  One to the head, then broke out in ditches\n  Before you step to the psycopath lunatic\n  H ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n  [gun cocked]\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked]\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n  [Verse 2: C-Bo]\n  I woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\n  thinking that I'm dead\n  Surprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\n  I knew it was over\n  Bo Loc done got struck in the game\n  Po-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\n  And I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\n  Now on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\n  Damn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\n  Cuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\n  In the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\n  Where suckas be getting that ass tucked\n  It's off the? and off the buck\n  And I believe in eight millions of ways to die\n  Cuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\n  Then you believe in getting fried\n  Snatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\n  Got crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\n  But I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\n  Last night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\n  And I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\n  Shotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\n  Then out the do' on my - face\n  Hands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\n  Cant fight back cuz I'm shackled\n  from my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\n  They drug me down to the county\n  Took three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\n  G, the stuff got hectic\n  Getting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\n  Im coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\n  For every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\n  One kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\n  I made a G-move\n  So? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\n  I'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n  187 dance on these punk suckas\n  Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta\n  Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\n  With the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n  [Outro]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n  [repeat Outro to fade]\n"},{"id":14177525,"name":"187 Dance","trackName":"187 Dance","artistName":"C-BO","albumName":"Tales From the Crypt","duration":245.311344,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n[Verse 1: C-Bo]\nTop down, side ways through the town\nSuckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\nLets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\nPop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\nStraight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\nThe gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\nCuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\nSo put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\nP-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\nI guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\nWe load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\nSo put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\nDrop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\nIt's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\nPop the clip with a mack-10\nHop out the truck and drop that grin\nCuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\nSo make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\nCuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\nSo don't be starting\nYou wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\nChiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\nWho ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\nCuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\nIn the strip, poppin they clip\nPuttin in work, letting it rip\nAs they keep fallin\nthe day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\nNo time for stallin\nA .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\nCuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\nIt's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\nProceed with caution\nuz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\nDead bodies are bridges\nOne to the head, then broke out in ditches\nBefore you step to the psycopath lunatic\nH ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n[Chorus]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n[gun cocked]\n\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked]\n[C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n[Verse 2: C-Bo]\nI woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\nthinking that I'm dead\nSurprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\nI knew it was over\nBo Loc done got struck in the game\nPo-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\nAnd I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\nNow on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\nDamn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\nCuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\nIn the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\nWhere suckas be getting that ass tucked\nIt's off the? and off the buck\nAnd I believe in eight millions of ways to die\nCuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\nThen you believe in getting fried\nSnatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\nGot crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\nBut I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\nLast night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\nAnd I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\nShotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\nThen out the do' on my - face\nHands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\nCant fight back cuz I'm shackled\nfrom my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\nThey drug me down to the county\nTook three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\nG, the stuff got hectic\nGetting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\nIm coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\nFor every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\nOne kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\nI made a G-move\nSo? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\nI'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n187 dance on these punk suckas\nTry to take ya boy out the game like a busta\nNow they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\nWith the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n[Outro]\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n[Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n[Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n[gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n[repeat Outro to fade]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 Dance\n  artist: C-BO\n  album: Tales From the Crypt\n  duration_ms: 245311\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n\n  [Verse 1: C-Bo]\n  Top down, side ways through the town\n  Suckas want fo' cuz I hit they block for a second round\n  Lets who ride and buck these suckas down quick\n  Pop in the clips and skips down these fool's strip\n  Straight to they sto', breakin they ass off something proper\n  The gun G-O-D's pulled up, sitting on choppers\n  Cuz you know I can't be slippin in the '94\n  So put up a glock, cuz we be buckin with them 4.4's\n  45. Auto Mag. .30 round clip. Fully Mag\n  P-30, mini-14. Desert Eagle, 55 Braggets\n  I guess I'm tired of getting crept on, stepped on\n  We load the high explosives talons when the? sweats on?\n  So put up your duke as I get deeper you shoot for the one in the deuce\n  Drop the top of the block, poppin the glide, I pursue\n  It's just another g fillin yo bad ass up to the rim\n  Pop the clip with a mack-10\n  Hop out the truck and drop that grin\n  Cuz like A, I'm in it to win it and plus? paper G\n  So make way,? Mack at ya front teeth\n  Cuz when you playing with mines, you playin with yo life\n  So don't be starting\n  You wake with fullies strapped at your bed side\n  Chiddy-chiddy bang bang, nothing but that Garden game\n  Who ride, and? old records. Get your face re-arranged\n  Cuz on my block, 24-7 fools be poppin they glocks\n  In the strip, poppin they clip\n  Puttin in work, letting it rip\n  As they keep fallin\n  the day we spend it cuz g's be keep ballin\n  No time for stallin\n  A .30 round clip and the shots I'm callin.\n  Cuz in this game, when you livin it strange aim for the brain\n  It's all for one and one for all cuz in the game only one gangst'\n  Proceed with caution\n  uz like hoe suckas, I be tossin\n  Dead bodies are bridges\n  One to the head, then broke out in ditches\n  Before you step to the psycopath lunatic\n  H ave yo gat in yo hand and ready for the 187 dance!\n\n  [Chorus]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n  [gun cocked]\n\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\"\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked]\n  [C-Bo:] So listen up for the cock\n\n  [Verse 2: C-Bo]\n  I woke in the morning with a .9 to my head\n  thinking that I'm dead\n  Surprised to see the TAS and the damn feds\n  I knew it was over\n  Bo Loc done got struck in the game\n  Po-po's got me face down on the bed by a big bag of 'caine\n  And I'm thinkin in my head 'I just left Y.A.'\n  Now on my way to the penitentiary for a yola case\n  Damn I'm struck like the? that's all I can say\n  Cuz I be countin down from 20 years, every 365 days\n  In the game when you stuck, you stuck up the river with bad luck\n  Where suckas be getting that ass tucked\n  It's off the? and off the buck\n  And I believe in eight millions of ways to die\n  Cuz if you Black and believe in gettin licked\n  Then you believe in getting fried\n  Snatched from floor by officer Town's and one of his punk boys?\n  Got crack in my pockets, 1700, the canines got me 'noid\n  But I play dumb. Bo Loc got that decomposure\n  Last night, settled for ten, hold up for 20 game, still got me doja\n  And I'm thinkin 'this just a dank game nightmare'\n  Shotguns and glocks and I can see the siren lights\n  Then out the do' on my - face\n  Hands cuffed tightly behind my back and they still doin me like a slave\n  Cant fight back cuz I'm shackled\n  from my wrist to my ankles and now these pigs wanna wrestle\n  They drug me down to the county\n  Took three Gs out my pocket and beat me down to the ground\n  G, the stuff got hectic\n  Getting triple-teamed by three punk white detectives.\n  Im coughing up blood, holdin on my ribs\n  For every hit I'm thinkin bout killin all they kids\n  One kicked and missed, slipped in my blood\n  I made a G-move\n  So? Went for his holster, itchin to get my blast on\n  I'd rather be dead than tanked up, gettin stomped on\n  187 dance on these punk suckas\n  Try to take ya boy out the game like a busta\n  Now they know what it's like gettin with a psycho\n  With the Garden Blocks it's all about survival [echoe]\n\n  [Outro]\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So be prepared with a cop\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Watch ya back when it cock\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] So let me catch ya on my block\n  [Dr. Dre] \"187 don't stop\",\n  [Snoop Dogg] \"Cuz it's 187\"\n  [gun cocked] [C-Bo] Be prepared with a cop\n\n  [repeat Outro to fade]\n"},{"id":20849297,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"Orca","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: Orca\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":12159494,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo","albumName":"Orca (Deluxe Version)","duration":258.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo\n  album: Orca (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 258000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":12773674,"name":"187 on the Hook","trackName":"187 on the Hook","artistName":"C‐Bo","albumName":"Blocc Movement","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfuckin' hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe banging by the book\nGot shot in the back tryna get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n[Verse 1: C-\nBuck these niggas, I'm a killer screamin' regime\nDeep NAVI's with heat like the A-Team\nAnd when my K scream, it's causin' nothin' but murder\nBucking these niggas making 'em hate me\nYeah, nigga, we don't give a fuck, nigga we thug lords\nConnected with Tech N9ne and touched for the thug war\nWho got love for these niggas with no love\nAt all give a fuck guns clutched, only left a ball\nI know you heard of me ...wanna murder me\nCause I'm the nigga that cooked the bird (?) in the kitchen\nMoms itchin' had the whole gang unwrappin' chickens\nNigga and we was headed for the jack strapped\nWith a fat gat, all my niggas down to rat-tat-tat-tat\nWest coast bad boys we was yellin'\nNow it's West Coast Mafia regime and thug zellin' nigga\n\n-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book\nGot shot in the back tryna get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\nTry to get me for my scratch you can get your arm detached\nIf you try to rip me on a track I put you in a ziplock nap sack\nBelieve it I get Glocks at that price I'm like\nMartini and Rossi Asti Spumante alright niggas that kill 'em up on sight killa nigga night something with tinted widows dumpin' at you hit dump Compliments of South Sacramento you could ask lil zar or big zow\nI'm a monster, I keep long gats like Charles Bronson\nAnd I'm on some\nPut you in the trunk all fucked up and lonesome\nIt's gon come Armageddon nigga my arms is sweating cause I been busting them model thangs see I'm good with the weapon plus...\nI really don't like you nigga you whole crew can't bust\nAnd I felt that shit way back when you was down with us clown wit us used to smoke a pound wit us\nNow I'm bound to cut you and your homies up nobody even heard your stuff, said it's 187, 187\nMe and C-Bo n Tech N9ne on yo bunker bunking with a Mac 11\n\n[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe bangin' by the book\nGot shot in the neck trying to get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\nNigga to catch this nigga, I'm ready to peel one\nInstead of the shoulders I gotta diss toward a niggas grill some\nVigilante and villain regime niggas come with steel guns\nGet ready to sleep cause you tripped when you fuck with a villain\nWhich one of y'all motherfuckers said \"fuck Tech N9ne!\"\nShady Pacino, turned C-ho when I clutched that N9ne!\nMe and my nigga C-Bo Yuk Mezzole not only bust that rhyme!\nWe can do it illegal so the evil'll give a fuck next time!\nNigga don't you ever spit my name\nAnd thinking that shit's the same\nTwo thou we switched the game and spit the flame\n\"Allahu Akbar!\" is what I say before I buck y'all\nMotherfuck busters like vell-Bacardi-yeah nigga had enough y'all\nGet ready to suffer, kneel down, nigga-\nTech N9ne! Killer Klown, nigga\n6 feet underground is where you're found, nigga\n40 water would'a never did a song witcha if he knew the song-\nWas about me, never make a million next time\n(say my name, say my name), like destiny's children, bitch!\n\n[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe bangin' by the book\nGot shot in the neck trying to get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 on the Hook\n  artist: C‐Bo\n  album: Blocc Movement\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfuckin' hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We banging by the book\n  Got shot in the back tryna get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  [Verse 1: C-\n  Buck these niggas, I'm a killer screamin' regime\n  Deep NAVI's with heat like the A-Team\n  And when my K scream, it's causin' nothin' but murder\n  Bucking these niggas making 'em hate me\n  Yeah, nigga, we don't give a fuck, nigga we thug lords\n  Connected with Tech N9ne and touched for the thug war\n  Who got love for these niggas with no love\n  At all give a fuck guns clutched, only left a ball\n  I know you heard of me ...wanna murder me\n  Cause I'm the nigga that cooked the bird (?) in the kitchen\n  Moms itchin' had the whole gang unwrappin' chickens\n  Nigga and we was headed for the jack strapped\n  With a fat gat, all my niggas down to rat-tat-tat-tat\n  West coast bad boys we was yellin'\n  Now it's West Coast Mafia regime and thug zellin' nigga\n\n  -Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book\n  Got shot in the back tryna get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  Try to get me for my scratch you can get your arm detached\n  If you try to rip me on a track I put you in a ziplock nap sack\n  Believe it I get Glocks at that price I'm like\n  Martini and Rossi Asti Spumante alright niggas that kill 'em up on sight killa nigga night something with tinted widows dumpin' at you hit dump Compliments of South Sacramento you could ask lil zar or big zow\n  I'm a monster, I keep long gats like Charles Bronson\n  And I'm on some\n  Put you in the trunk all fucked up and lonesome\n  It's gon come Armageddon nigga my arms is sweating cause I been busting them model thangs see I'm good with the weapon plus...\n  I really don't like you nigga you whole crew can't bust\n  And I felt that shit way back when you was down with us clown wit us used to smoke a pound wit us\n  Now I'm bound to cut you and your homies up nobody even heard your stuff, said it's 187, 187\n  Me and C-Bo n Tech N9ne on yo bunker bunking with a Mac 11\n\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We bangin' by the book\n  Got shot in the neck trying to get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  Nigga to catch this nigga, I'm ready to peel one\n  Instead of the shoulders I gotta diss toward a niggas grill some\n  Vigilante and villain regime niggas come with steel guns\n  Get ready to sleep cause you tripped when you fuck with a villain\n  Which one of y'all motherfuckers said \"fuck Tech N9ne!\"\n  Shady Pacino, turned C-ho when I clutched that N9ne!\n  Me and my nigga C-Bo Yuk Mezzole not only bust that rhyme!\n  We can do it illegal so the evil'll give a fuck next time!\n  Nigga don't you ever spit my name\n  And thinking that shit's the same\n  Two thou we switched the game and spit the flame\n  \"Allahu Akbar!\" is what I say before I buck y'all\n  Motherfuck busters like vell-Bacardi-yeah nigga had enough y'all\n  Get ready to suffer, kneel down, nigga-\n  Tech N9ne! Killer Klown, nigga\n  6 feet underground is where you're found, nigga\n  40 water would'a never did a song witcha if he knew the song-\n  Was about me, never make a million next time\n  (say my name, say my name), like destiny's children, bitch!\n\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We bangin' by the book\n  Got shot in the neck trying to get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n"},{"id":37631232,"name":"187 on the Hook","trackName":"187 on the Hook","artistName":"C‐Bo","albumName":"Blocc Movement / Enemy of the State","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfuckin' hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe banging by the book\nGot shot in the back tryna get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n[Verse 1: C-\nBuck these niggas, I'm a killer screamin' regime\nDeep NAVI's with heat like the A-Team\nAnd when my K scream, it's causin' nothin' but murder\nBucking these niggas making 'em hate me\nYeah, nigga, we don't give a fuck, nigga we thug lords\nConnected with Tech N9ne and touched for the thug war\nWho got love for these niggas with no love\nAt all give a fuck guns clutched, only left a ball\nI know you heard of me ...wanna murder me\nCause I'm the nigga that cooked the bird (?) in the kitchen\nMoms itchin' had the whole gang unwrappin' chickens\nNigga and we was headed for the jack strapped\nWith a fat gat, all my niggas down to rat-tat-tat-tat\nWest coast bad boys we was yellin'\nNow it's West Coast Mafia regime and thug zellin' nigga\n\n-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book\nGot shot in the back tryna get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\nTry to get me for my scratch you can get your arm detached\nIf you try to rip me on a track I put you in a ziplock nap sack\nBelieve it I get Glocks at that price I'm like\nMartini and Rossi Asti Spumante alright niggas that kill 'em up on sight killa nigga night something with tinted widows dumpin' at you hit dump Compliments of South Sacramento you could ask lil zar or big zow\nI'm a monster, I keep long gats like Charles Bronson\nAnd I'm on some\nPut you in the trunk all fucked up and lonesome\nIt's gon come Armageddon nigga my arms is sweating cause I been busting them model thangs see I'm good with the weapon plus...\nI really don't like you nigga you whole crew can't bust\nAnd I felt that shit way back when you was down with us clown wit us used to smoke a pound wit us\nNow I'm bound to cut you and your homies up nobody even heard your stuff, said it's 187, 187\nMe and C-Bo n Tech N9ne on yo bunker bunking with a Mac 11\n\n[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe bangin' by the book\nGot shot in the neck trying to get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\nNigga to catch this nigga, I'm ready to peel one\nInstead of the shoulders I gotta diss toward a niggas grill some\nVigilante and villain regime niggas come with steel guns\nGet ready to sleep cause you tripped when you fuck with a villain\nWhich one of y'all motherfuckers said \"fuck Tech N9ne!\"\nShady Pacino, turned C-ho when I clutched that N9ne!\nMe and my nigga C-Bo Yuk Mezzole not only bust that rhyme!\nWe can do it illegal so the evil'll give a fuck next time!\nNigga don't you ever spit my name\nAnd thinking that shit's the same\nTwo thou we switched the game and spit the flame\n\"Allahu Akbar!\" is what I say before I buck y'all\nMotherfuck busters like vell-Bacardi-yeah nigga had enough y'all\nGet ready to suffer, kneel down, nigga-\nTech N9ne! Killer Klown, nigga\n6 feet underground is where you're found, nigga\n40 water would'a never did a song witcha if he knew the song-\nWas about me, never make a million next time\n(say my name, say my name), like destiny's children, bitch!\n\n[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe bangin' by the book\nGot shot in the neck trying to get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 on the Hook\n  artist: C‐Bo\n  album: Blocc Movement / Enemy of the State\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfuckin' hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We banging by the book\n  Got shot in the back tryna get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  [Verse 1: C-\n  Buck these niggas, I'm a killer screamin' regime\n  Deep NAVI's with heat like the A-Team\n  And when my K scream, it's causin' nothin' but murder\n  Bucking these niggas making 'em hate me\n  Yeah, nigga, we don't give a fuck, nigga we thug lords\n  Connected with Tech N9ne and touched for the thug war\n  Who got love for these niggas with no love\n  At all give a fuck guns clutched, only left a ball\n  I know you heard of me ...wanna murder me\n  Cause I'm the nigga that cooked the bird (?) in the kitchen\n  Moms itchin' had the whole gang unwrappin' chickens\n  Nigga and we was headed for the jack strapped\n  With a fat gat, all my niggas down to rat-tat-tat-tat\n  West coast bad boys we was yellin'\n  Now it's West Coast Mafia regime and thug zellin' nigga\n\n  -Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book\n  Got shot in the back tryna get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  Try to get me for my scratch you can get your arm detached\n  If you try to rip me on a track I put you in a ziplock nap sack\n  Believe it I get Glocks at that price I'm like\n  Martini and Rossi Asti Spumante alright niggas that kill 'em up on sight killa nigga night something with tinted widows dumpin' at you hit dump Compliments of South Sacramento you could ask lil zar or big zow\n  I'm a monster, I keep long gats like Charles Bronson\n  And I'm on some\n  Put you in the trunk all fucked up and lonesome\n  It's gon come Armageddon nigga my arms is sweating cause I been busting them model thangs see I'm good with the weapon plus...\n  I really don't like you nigga you whole crew can't bust\n  And I felt that shit way back when you was down with us clown wit us used to smoke a pound wit us\n  Now I'm bound to cut you and your homies up nobody even heard your stuff, said it's 187, 187\n  Me and C-Bo n Tech N9ne on yo bunker bunking with a Mac 11\n\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We bangin' by the book\n  Got shot in the neck trying to get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  Nigga to catch this nigga, I'm ready to peel one\n  Instead of the shoulders I gotta diss toward a niggas grill some\n  Vigilante and villain regime niggas come with steel guns\n  Get ready to sleep cause you tripped when you fuck with a villain\n  Which one of y'all motherfuckers said \"fuck Tech N9ne!\"\n  Shady Pacino, turned C-ho when I clutched that N9ne!\n  Me and my nigga C-Bo Yuk Mezzole not only bust that rhyme!\n  We can do it illegal so the evil'll give a fuck next time!\n  Nigga don't you ever spit my name\n  And thinking that shit's the same\n  Two thou we switched the game and spit the flame\n  \"Allahu Akbar!\" is what I say before I buck y'all\n  Motherfuck busters like vell-Bacardi-yeah nigga had enough y'all\n  Get ready to suffer, kneel down, nigga-\n  Tech N9ne! Killer Klown, nigga\n  6 feet underground is where you're found, nigga\n  40 water would'a never did a song witcha if he knew the song-\n  Was about me, never make a million next time\n  (say my name, say my name), like destiny's children, bitch!\n\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We bangin' by the book\n  Got shot in the neck trying to get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n"},{"id":35660918,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo, WC","albumName":"Orca (Deluxe Version)","duration":257.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:49.62] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:52.26] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:54.90] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:57.67] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[01:00.53] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[01:03.36] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[01:06.27] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:08.91] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:11.79] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:14.63] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:17.23] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:20.17] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:22.92] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:25.73] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:28.74] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:31.43] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:34.19] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:36.89] (murder murder)\n[01:38.59] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:41.06] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:43.36] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:46.33] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:48.14] (murder murder)\n[01:49.54] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:52.02] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:54.77] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:57.48] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:59.20] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[02:00.04] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[02:02.30] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[02:05.07] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[02:08.26] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:10.98] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:13.37] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:16.43] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:19.60] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:21.94] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:23.10] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:25.32] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:27.53] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:30.24] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:33.24] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:36.11] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:39.66] Dub and C-BO\n[03:02.98] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[03:06.76] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:09.49] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:12.27] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:15.15] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:17.98] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:20.64] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:23.52] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:26.32] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:28.98] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:31.97] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:34.64] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:37.16] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:39.95] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:42.94] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:45.70] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:49.26] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo, WC\n  album: Orca (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 257000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 49620\n  end_ms: 52260\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 52260\n  end_ms: 54900\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 54900\n  end_ms: 57670\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 57670\n  end_ms: 60530\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 60530\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66270\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 66270\n  end_ms: 68910\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 68910\n  end_ms: 71790\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 71790\n  end_ms: 74630\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 74630\n  end_ms: 77230\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 77230\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 85730\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 85730\n  end_ms: 88740\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 88740\n  end_ms: 91430\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 91430\n  end_ms: 94190\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 94190\n  end_ms: 96890\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 96890\n  end_ms: 98590\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 98590\n  end_ms: 101060\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 101060\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106330\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 106330\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 112020\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 112020\n  end_ms: 114770\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 114770\n  end_ms: 117480\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 117480\n  end_ms: 119200\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 119200\n  end_ms: 120040\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 120040\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136430\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 136430\n  end_ms: 139600\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 139600\n  end_ms: 141940\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 141940\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 145320\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 145320\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 150240\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 150240\n  end_ms: 153240\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 153240\n  end_ms: 156110\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 156110\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 182980\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 182980\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 189490\n  end_ms: 192270\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 192270\n  end_ms: 195150\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 195150\n  end_ms: 197980\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 197980\n  end_ms: 200640\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 200640\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 206320\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 206320\n  end_ms: 208980\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 208980\n  end_ms: 211970\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 211970\n  end_ms: 214640\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 214640\n  end_ms: 217160\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 217160\n  end_ms: 219950\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 219950\n  end_ms: 222940\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 222940\n  end_ms: 225700\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 225700\n  end_ms: 229260\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229260\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":35660950,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo, WC","albumName":"Orca (Deluxe Version)","duration":254.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:49.62] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:52.26] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:54.90] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:57.67] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[01:00.53] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[01:03.36] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[01:06.27] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:08.91] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:11.79] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:14.63] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:17.23] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:20.17] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:22.92] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:25.73] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:28.74] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:31.43] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:34.19] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:36.89] (murder murder)\n[01:38.59] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:41.06] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:43.36] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:46.33] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:48.14] (murder murder)\n[01:49.54] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:52.02] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:54.77] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:57.48] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:59.20] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[02:00.04] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[02:02.30] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[02:05.07] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[02:08.26] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:10.98] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:13.37] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:16.43] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:19.60] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:21.94] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:23.10] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:25.32] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:27.53] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:30.24] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:33.24] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:36.11] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:39.66] Dub and C-BO\n[03:02.98] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[03:06.76] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:09.49] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:12.27] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:15.15] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:17.98] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:20.64] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:23.52] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:26.32] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:28.98] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:31.97] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:34.64] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:37.16] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:39.95] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:42.94] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:45.70] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:49.26] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo, WC\n  album: Orca (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 254000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 49620\n  end_ms: 52260\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 52260\n  end_ms: 54900\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 54900\n  end_ms: 57670\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 57670\n  end_ms: 60530\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 60530\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66270\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 66270\n  end_ms: 68910\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 68910\n  end_ms: 71790\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 71790\n  end_ms: 74630\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 74630\n  end_ms: 77230\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 77230\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 85730\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 85730\n  end_ms: 88740\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 88740\n  end_ms: 91430\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 91430\n  end_ms: 94190\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 94190\n  end_ms: 96890\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 96890\n  end_ms: 98590\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 98590\n  end_ms: 101060\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 101060\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106330\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 106330\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 112020\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 112020\n  end_ms: 114770\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 114770\n  end_ms: 117480\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 117480\n  end_ms: 119200\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 119200\n  end_ms: 120040\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 120040\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136430\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 136430\n  end_ms: 139600\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 139600\n  end_ms: 141940\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 141940\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 145320\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 145320\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 150240\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 150240\n  end_ms: 153240\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 153240\n  end_ms: 156110\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 156110\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 182980\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 182980\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 189490\n  end_ms: 192270\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 192270\n  end_ms: 195150\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 195150\n  end_ms: 197980\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 197980\n  end_ms: 200640\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 200640\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 206320\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 206320\n  end_ms: 208980\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 208980\n  end_ms: 211970\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 211970\n  end_ms: 214640\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 214640\n  end_ms: 217160\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 217160\n  end_ms: 219950\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 219950\n  end_ms: 222940\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 222940\n  end_ms: 225700\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 225700\n  end_ms: 229260\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229260\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":35660951,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo, WC","albumName":"Orca (Deluxe Version)","duration":253.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:49.62] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:52.26] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:54.90] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:57.67] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[01:00.53] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[01:03.36] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[01:06.27] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:08.91] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:11.79] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:14.63] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:17.23] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:20.17] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:22.92] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:25.73] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:28.74] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:31.43] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:34.19] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:36.89] (murder murder)\n[01:38.59] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:41.06] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:43.36] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:46.33] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:48.14] (murder murder)\n[01:49.54] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:52.02] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:54.77] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:57.48] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:59.20] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[02:00.04] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[02:02.30] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[02:05.07] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[02:08.26] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:10.98] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:13.37] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:16.43] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:19.60] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:21.94] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:23.10] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:25.32] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:27.53] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:30.24] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:33.24] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:36.11] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:39.66] Dub and C-BO\n[03:02.98] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[03:06.76] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:09.49] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:12.27] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:15.15] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:17.98] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:20.64] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:23.52] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:26.32] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:28.98] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:31.97] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:34.64] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:37.16] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:39.95] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:42.94] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:45.70] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:49.26] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo, WC\n  album: Orca (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 253000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 49620\n  end_ms: 52260\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 52260\n  end_ms: 54900\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 54900\n  end_ms: 57670\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 57670\n  end_ms: 60530\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 60530\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66270\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 66270\n  end_ms: 68910\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 68910\n  end_ms: 71790\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 71790\n  end_ms: 74630\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 74630\n  end_ms: 77230\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 77230\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 85730\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 85730\n  end_ms: 88740\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 88740\n  end_ms: 91430\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 91430\n  end_ms: 94190\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 94190\n  end_ms: 96890\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 96890\n  end_ms: 98590\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 98590\n  end_ms: 101060\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 101060\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106330\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 106330\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 112020\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 112020\n  end_ms: 114770\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 114770\n  end_ms: 117480\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 117480\n  end_ms: 119200\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 119200\n  end_ms: 120040\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 120040\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136430\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 136430\n  end_ms: 139600\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 139600\n  end_ms: 141940\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 141940\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 145320\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 145320\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 150240\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 150240\n  end_ms: 153240\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 153240\n  end_ms: 156110\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 156110\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 182980\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 182980\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 189490\n  end_ms: 192270\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 192270\n  end_ms: 195150\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 195150\n  end_ms: 197980\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 197980\n  end_ms: 200640\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 200640\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 206320\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 206320\n  end_ms: 208980\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 208980\n  end_ms: 211970\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 211970\n  end_ms: 214640\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 214640\n  end_ms: 217160\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 217160\n  end_ms: 219950\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 219950\n  end_ms: 222940\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 222940\n  end_ms: 225700\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 225700\n  end_ms: 229260\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229260\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":35660968,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo, WC","albumName":"Orca (Deluxe Version)","duration":263.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:49.62] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:52.26] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:54.90] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:57.67] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[01:00.53] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[01:03.36] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[01:06.27] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:08.91] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:11.79] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:14.63] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:17.23] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:20.17] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:22.92] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:25.73] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:28.74] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:31.43] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:34.19] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:36.89] (murder murder)\n[01:38.59] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:41.06] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:43.36] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:46.33] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:48.14] (murder murder)\n[01:49.54] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:52.02] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:54.77] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:57.48] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:59.20] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[02:00.04] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[02:02.30] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[02:05.07] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[02:08.26] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:10.98] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:13.37] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:16.43] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:19.60] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:21.94] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:23.10] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:25.32] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:27.53] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:30.24] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:33.24] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:36.11] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:39.66] Dub and C-BO\n[03:02.98] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[03:06.76] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:09.49] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:12.27] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:15.15] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:17.98] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:20.64] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:23.52] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:26.32] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:28.98] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:31.97] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:34.64] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:37.16] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:39.95] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:42.94] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:45.70] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:49.26] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo, WC\n  album: Orca (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 263000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 49620\n  end_ms: 52260\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 52260\n  end_ms: 54900\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 54900\n  end_ms: 57670\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 57670\n  end_ms: 60530\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 60530\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66270\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 66270\n  end_ms: 68910\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 68910\n  end_ms: 71790\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 71790\n  end_ms: 74630\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 74630\n  end_ms: 77230\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 77230\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 85730\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 85730\n  end_ms: 88740\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 88740\n  end_ms: 91430\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 91430\n  end_ms: 94190\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 94190\n  end_ms: 96890\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 96890\n  end_ms: 98590\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 98590\n  end_ms: 101060\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 101060\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106330\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 106330\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 112020\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 112020\n  end_ms: 114770\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 114770\n  end_ms: 117480\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 117480\n  end_ms: 119200\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 119200\n  end_ms: 120040\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 120040\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136430\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 136430\n  end_ms: 139600\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 139600\n  end_ms: 141940\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 141940\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 145320\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 145320\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 150240\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 150240\n  end_ms: 153240\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 153240\n  end_ms: 156110\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 156110\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 182980\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 182980\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 189490\n  end_ms: 192270\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 192270\n  end_ms: 195150\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 195150\n  end_ms: 197980\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 197980\n  end_ms: 200640\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 200640\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 206320\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 206320\n  end_ms: 208980\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 208980\n  end_ms: 211970\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 211970\n  end_ms: 214640\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 214640\n  end_ms: 217160\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 217160\n  end_ms: 219950\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 219950\n  end_ms: 222940\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 222940\n  end_ms: 225700\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 225700\n  end_ms: 229260\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229260\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":35660947,"name":"187 (feat. WC)","trackName":"187 (feat. WC)","artistName":"C-Bo, WC","albumName":"Orca (Deluxe Version)","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\nNo matter the category, can't compare me to none\nThe boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\nHe wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\nYou know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\nAnd all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\nAnd when it come to beef I take it by the slab\nMake the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\nI represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\nCome around stunting, and they'll take what you have\nPut it in the bag, jury in the cask\nOnce you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\nBe a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\nTurn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\nCall me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\nForty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n187 and it's murder (murder)\n(C-BO and WC we know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n(murder murder)\n1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n(all I hear, all I am, all I know)\nThen they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\nI can here you screaming murder\n\nNiggas be yelling they all in\nBlue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\nThats why I stroll slow solo\nPolice reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\nDubcudda, lie you in your casket\nSock the lenses out your designer glasses\nThe west of the imperial, gun with no serial\nO-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\nNiggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\nAnd I literally bury you bastards\nLeave you chest down, with your head backwards\nI stay strapped, so get it understood\nBefore this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\nThem other niggas rappers, dub is the server\nThe opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\nYou know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\nDub and C-BO\n\nYa, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\nWhen I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\nDuct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\nThen toss him off in the river, just like that homie\nBorn killas, nine milli's that handle mine\nPlay with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\nI'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\nYou might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\nSouth side Sacramento dont stop in it\nThe maniac deuce nine, the block get it\nWhen it come to the lick, we like to forty things\nAnd i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\nBandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\nAk's and banana clips for the enemies\nSo go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\nIf you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home","syncedLyrics":"[00:49.62] You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n[00:52.26] No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n[00:54.90] The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n[00:57.67] He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n[01:00.53] You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n[01:03.36] And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n[01:06.27] And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n[01:08.91] Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n[01:11.79] I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n[01:14.63] Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n[01:17.23] Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n[01:20.17] Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n[01:22.92] Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n[01:25.73] Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n[01:28.74] Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n[01:31.43] Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n[01:34.19] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:36.89] (murder murder)\n[01:38.59] 187 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:41.06] (C-BO and WC we know)\n[01:43.36] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:46.33] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:48.14] (murder murder)\n[01:49.54] 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n[01:52.02] (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n[01:54.77] Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n[01:57.48] I can here you screaming murder\n[01:59.20] Niggas be yelling they all in\n[02:00.04] Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n[02:02.30] Thats why I stroll slow solo\n[02:05.07] Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n[02:08.26] Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n[02:10.98] Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n[02:13.37] The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n[02:16.43] O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n[02:19.60] Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n[02:21.94] And I literally bury you bastards\n[02:23.10] Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n[02:25.32] I stay strapped, so get it understood\n[02:27.53] Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n[02:30.24] Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n[02:33.24] The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n[02:36.11] You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n[02:39.66] Dub and C-BO\n[03:02.98] Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n[03:06.76] When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n[03:09.49] Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n[03:12.27] Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n[03:15.15] Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n[03:17.98] Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n[03:20.64] I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n[03:23.52] You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n[03:26.32] South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n[03:28.98] The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n[03:31.97] When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n[03:34.64] And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n[03:37.16] Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n[03:39.95] Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n[03:42.94] So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n[03:45.70] If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n[03:49.26] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 (feat. WC)\n  artist: C-Bo, WC\n  album: Orca (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  start_ms: 49620\n  end_ms: 52260\n- text: No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  start_ms: 52260\n  end_ms: 54900\n- text: The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  start_ms: 54900\n  end_ms: 57670\n- text: He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  start_ms: 57670\n  end_ms: 60530\n- text: You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  start_ms: 60530\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66270\n- text: And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  start_ms: 66270\n  end_ms: 68910\n- text: Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  start_ms: 68910\n  end_ms: 71790\n- text: I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  start_ms: 71790\n  end_ms: 74630\n- text: Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  start_ms: 74630\n  end_ms: 77230\n- text: Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  start_ms: 77230\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 85730\n- text: Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  start_ms: 85730\n  end_ms: 88740\n- text: Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  start_ms: 88740\n  end_ms: 91430\n- text: Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n  start_ms: 91430\n  end_ms: 94190\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 94190\n  end_ms: 96890\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 96890\n  end_ms: 98590\n- text: 187 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 98590\n  end_ms: 101060\n- text: (C-BO and WC we know)\n  start_ms: 101060\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106330\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 106330\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: (murder murder)\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: 1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 112020\n- text: (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  start_ms: 112020\n  end_ms: 114770\n- text: Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  start_ms: 114770\n  end_ms: 117480\n- text: I can here you screaming murder\n  start_ms: 117480\n  end_ms: 119200\n- text: Niggas be yelling they all in\n  start_ms: 119200\n  end_ms: 120040\n- text: Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  start_ms: 120040\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136430\n- text: O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  start_ms: 136430\n  end_ms: 139600\n- text: Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  start_ms: 139600\n  end_ms: 141940\n- text: And I literally bury you bastards\n  start_ms: 141940\n  end_ms: 143100\n- text: Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  start_ms: 143100\n  end_ms: 145320\n- text: I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  start_ms: 145320\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 150240\n- text: Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  start_ms: 150240\n  end_ms: 153240\n- text: The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  start_ms: 153240\n  end_ms: 156110\n- text: You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  start_ms: 156110\n  end_ms: 159660\n- text: Dub and C-BO\n  start_ms: 159660\n  end_ms: 182980\n- text: Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  start_ms: 182980\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  start_ms: 189490\n  end_ms: 192270\n- text: Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  start_ms: 192270\n  end_ms: 195150\n- text: Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  start_ms: 195150\n  end_ms: 197980\n- text: Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  start_ms: 197980\n  end_ms: 200640\n- text: I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  start_ms: 200640\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 206320\n- text: South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  start_ms: 206320\n  end_ms: 208980\n- text: The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  start_ms: 208980\n  end_ms: 211970\n- text: When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  start_ms: 211970\n  end_ms: 214640\n- text: And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  start_ms: 214640\n  end_ms: 217160\n- text: Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  start_ms: 217160\n  end_ms: 219950\n- text: Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  start_ms: 219950\n  end_ms: 222940\n- text: So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  start_ms: 222940\n  end_ms: 225700\n- text: If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n  start_ms: 225700\n  end_ms: 229260\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229260\nplain: |-\n  You say that I'm toughest, you say that I'm the one\n  No matter the category, can't compare me to none\n  The boy say he hooder than me, no he lying\n  He wanna be hooder than me, then nigga keep trying\n  You know where I'm from and I don't carry a rag\n  And all the shit that I've done and I dont care to brag\n  And when it come to beef I take it by the slab\n  Make the pussy retreat and all I throw is a jab\n  I represent the streets, my little homies in the ave'\n  Come around stunting, and they'll take what you have\n  Put it in the bag, jury in the cask\n  Once you lose your respect, there goes your ghetto pass\n  Be a dead man walking, all you gotta do is try em'\n  Turn a nigga into shark meat, I bet they'll never find em'\n  Call me the boogeyman, I'm always behind em'\n  Forty or the four-five or tek-nine em'\n\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  187 and it's murder (murder)\n  (C-BO and WC we know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n  (murder murder)\n  1-8-7 and it's murder (murder)\n  (all I hear, all I am, all I know)\n  Then they give a nigga life cause it's murder (murder)\n  I can here you screaming murder\n\n  Niggas be yelling they all in\n  Blue when the police come around, you niggas be talkin'\n  Thats why I stroll slow solo\n  Police reports is a no-no, I talk with the fo-fo\n  Dubcudda, lie you in your casket\n  Sock the lenses out your designer glasses\n  The west of the imperial, gun with no serial\n  O-G, but keep it H-double-O-D, to the O-D\n  Niggas can't fuck with me, but fuck with me\n  And I literally bury you bastards\n  Leave you chest down, with your head backwards\n  I stay strapped, so get it understood\n  Before this rap shit, I was fucking with the hood\n  Them other niggas rappers, dub is the server\n  The opposite of death, loc I live for the murder\n  You know the G-code, 1-8-7 is the penal\n  Dub and C-BO\n\n  Ya, I'm rolling through the hood with the strap on me\n  When I see this nigga Im'ma kidnap homie\n  Duct tape clap, it's a grand rap homie\n  Then toss him off in the river, just like that homie\n  Born killas, nine milli's that handle mine\n  Play with me, you play with your life and I dont gamble mine\n  I'm from a set, where we wet em' just for their shoe strings\n  You might think it's fucked up, but this is how do things\n  South side Sacramento dont stop in it\n  The maniac deuce nine, the block get it\n  When it come to the lick, we like to forty things\n  And i've been ali baba ever since the hood caughted me\n  Bandannas and big cannons we fucking g's\n  Ak's and banana clips for the enemies\n  So go hard or nigga just go the fuck home\n  If you ain't putting bodies in the bag, then get the fuck home\n"},{"id":21041720,"name":"187 On A Hook","trackName":"187 On A Hook","artistName":"Brotha Lynch & C-Bo","albumName":"Featured","duration":268.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\nniggas all around shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book got shot in the back\nTrying to get away, and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\nIt's 187 on a motherfucking hook\nniggas all around shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book got shot in the back\nTrying to get away and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n\nFuck these niggas I'm a killa screaming regime\nDeep navis wit heat like the A team\nAnd when my K scream\nIt's causing nothing but murder\nBucking these niggas making hate me\nYeah nigga, we dont give a fuck nigga\nWe thug lords connected from tech n9ne\nand touched for the thug war\nwho got love for these niggas\nwit no love at all give people fuck guns\nclutched only left a ball.\nI know you heard of me\nWanna murder me\nCause I'm the nigga that cooked that turkey\nclean up in the kitchen.\nMoms itchin had the whole gang unwrapping chickens nigga\nAnd we was headed for the jack\nstrapped wit a fat gat all my niggas\nDown to rat tat tat tat\nWest coast bad boys we was yelling\nNow west coast mafia regime and thug zellin nigga.\n\nTry to get me for my scratch\nand you get your arm detached\nIf you try to rip me on a track\nI put you in a ziploc napsack.\nBelieve it I get glocks at that price,\nI'm like martini and rossi Austispumante alright.\nNiggas that kill em up on sight\nkilla nigga night something wit tinted windows\ndumpin at you hit compliments of south Sacramento.\nYOU could ask lil zar or big zow.\nI'm a monster. I keep long gats,\nlike Charles Bronson, and I'm on some\nPut you in the trunk all fucked up\nand lonesome.\nIt's gon come armegeddon nigga.\nMy arm is sweating\nCause I been busting\nthem model thangs, see?\nI'm good with the weapon,\nand plus, I really don't like you, nigga.\nYou whole crew can't bust\nand I felt that shit way back\nwhen you was down wit us\nclown wit us\nused to smoke a pound wit us.\nNow I'm bound to cut you\nand your homies up.\nNobody even heard your stuff.\nSaid it's 187 187.\nMe and C-Bo and Tech N9ne\non your bunker buckin wit a mac 11.\n\nNigga to catch this nigga\nI'm ready to peel one.\nInstead of shoulders\nI gotta diss toward a niggas grill.\nSome vigilante and villigan regime, niggas,\nCome wit steel guns\nGet ready to sleep cause you tripped\nWhen you fuck wit a villain.\nWhich one of y'all motherfuckers said\nfuck Tech N9ne?\nShady Pacino turned C-hoe\nwhen I clutched that n9ne,\nme and my nigga, C-Bo Yuk,\nmezzole not only bust that rhyme,\nwe can do it illegal\nso the evil'll give a fuck next time.\nNigga don't you ever spit my name ja\nand thinking that shits the same ja.\nTwo thou we switched the game\nand spit the flame wah Allah\nwa augkbar Is what I say.\nBefore I buck ya motherfucker busters,\nlike vell bakardy, yeah nigga.\nHad enough ya? Get ready to suffer.\nKneel down nigga. Tech N9ne Killa Klown nigga.\nSix feet underground\nis where your found nigga.\n40 water would never did a song witcha\nif he knew the song was about me.\nNever make a million next time.\nSay my name,\nsay my name like destinys children bitch.\n\nRepeat","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 On A Hook\n  artist: Brotha Lynch & C-Bo\n  album: Featured\n  duration_ms: 268000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  niggas all around shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book got shot in the back\n  Trying to get away, and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n  It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  niggas all around shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book got shot in the back\n  Trying to get away and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n\n  Fuck these niggas I'm a killa screaming regime\n  Deep navis wit heat like the A team\n  And when my K scream\n  It's causing nothing but murder\n  Bucking these niggas making hate me\n  Yeah nigga, we dont give a fuck nigga\n  We thug lords connected from tech n9ne\n  and touched for the thug war\n  who got love for these niggas\n  wit no love at all give people fuck guns\n  clutched only left a ball.\n  I know you heard of me\n  Wanna murder me\n  Cause I'm the nigga that cooked that turkey\n  clean up in the kitchen.\n  Moms itchin had the whole gang unwrapping chickens nigga\n  And we was headed for the jack\n  strapped wit a fat gat all my niggas\n  Down to rat tat tat tat\n  West coast bad boys we was yelling\n  Now west coast mafia regime and thug zellin nigga.\n\n  Try to get me for my scratch\n  and you get your arm detached\n  If you try to rip me on a track\n  I put you in a ziploc napsack.\n  Believe it I get glocks at that price,\n  I'm like martini and rossi Austispumante alright.\n  Niggas that kill em up on sight\n  killa nigga night something wit tinted windows\n  dumpin at you hit compliments of south Sacramento.\n  YOU could ask lil zar or big zow.\n  I'm a monster. I keep long gats,\n  like Charles Bronson, and I'm on some\n  Put you in the trunk all fucked up\n  and lonesome.\n  It's gon come armegeddon nigga.\n  My arm is sweating\n  Cause I been busting\n  them model thangs, see?\n  I'm good with the weapon,\n  and plus, I really don't like you, nigga.\n  You whole crew can't bust\n  and I felt that shit way back\n  when you was down wit us\n  clown wit us\n  used to smoke a pound wit us.\n  Now I'm bound to cut you\n  and your homies up.\n  Nobody even heard your stuff.\n  Said it's 187 187.\n  Me and C-Bo and Tech N9ne\n  on your bunker buckin wit a mac 11.\n\n  Nigga to catch this nigga\n  I'm ready to peel one.\n  Instead of shoulders\n  I gotta diss toward a niggas grill.\n  Some vigilante and villigan regime, niggas,\n  Come wit steel guns\n  Get ready to sleep cause you tripped\n  When you fuck wit a villain.\n  Which one of y'all motherfuckers said\n  fuck Tech N9ne?\n  Shady Pacino turned C-hoe\n  when I clutched that n9ne,\n  me and my nigga, C-Bo Yuk,\n  mezzole not only bust that rhyme,\n  we can do it illegal\n  so the evil'll give a fuck next time.\n  Nigga don't you ever spit my name ja\n  and thinking that shits the same ja.\n  Two thou we switched the game\n  and spit the flame wah Allah\n  wa augkbar Is what I say.\n  Before I buck ya motherfucker busters,\n  like vell bakardy, yeah nigga.\n  Had enough ya? Get ready to suffer.\n  Kneel down nigga. Tech N9ne Killa Klown nigga.\n  Six feet underground\n  is where your found nigga.\n  40 water would never did a song witcha\n  if he knew the song was about me.\n  Never make a million next time.\n  Say my name,\n  say my name like destinys children bitch.\n\n  Repeat\n"},{"id":20838648,"name":"187 on the Hook","trackName":"187 on the Hook","artistName":"Brotha Lynch Hung & C‐Bo","albumName":"Blocc Movement","duration":265.5333376,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfuckin' hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe banging by the book\nGot shot in the back tryna get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n[Verse 1: C-\nBuck these niggas, I'm a killer screamin' regime\nDeep NAVI's with heat like the A-Team\nAnd when my K scream, it's causin' nothin' but murder\nBucking these niggas making 'em hate me\nYeah, nigga, we don't give a fuck, nigga we thug lords\nConnected with Tech N9ne and touched for the thug war\nWho got love for these niggas with no love\nAt all give a fuck guns clutched, only left a ball\nI know you heard of me ...wanna murder me\nCause I'm the nigga that cooked the bird (?) in the kitchen\nMoms itchin' had the whole gang unwrappin' chickens\nNigga and we was headed for the jack strapped\nWith a fat gat, all my niggas down to rat-tat-tat-tat\nWest coast bad boys we was yellin'\nNow it's West Coast Mafia regime and thug zellin' nigga\n\n-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book\nGot shot in the back tryna get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\nTry to get me for my scratch you can get your arm detached\nIf you try to rip me on a track I put you in a ziplock nap sack\nBelieve it I get Glocks at that price I'm like\nMartini and Rossi Asti Spumante alright niggas that kill 'em up on sight killa nigga night something with tinted widows dumpin' at you hit dump Compliments of South Sacramento you could ask lil zar or big zow\nI'm a monster, I keep long gats like Charles Bronson\nAnd I'm on some\nPut you in the trunk all fucked up and lonesome\nIt's gon come Armageddon nigga my arms is sweating cause I been busting them model thangs see I'm good with the weapon plus...\nI really don't like you nigga you whole crew can't bust\nAnd I felt that shit way back when you was down with us clown wit us used to smoke a pound wit us\nNow I'm bound to cut you and your homies up nobody even heard your stuff, said it's 187, 187\nMe and C-Bo n Tech N9ne on yo bunker bunking with a Mac 11\n\n[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe bangin' by the book\nGot shot in the neck trying to get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\nNigga to catch this nigga, I'm ready to peel one\nInstead of the shoulders I gotta diss toward a niggas grill some\nVigilante and villain regime niggas come with steel guns\nGet ready to sleep cause you tripped when you fuck with a villain\nWhich one of y'all motherfuckers said \"fuck Tech N9ne!\"\nShady Pacino, turned C-ho when I clutched that N9ne!\nMe and my nigga C-Bo Yuk Mezzole not only bust that rhyme!\nWe can do it illegal so the evil'll give a fuck next time!\nNigga don't you ever spit my name\nAnd thinking that shit's the same\nTwo thou we switched the game and spit the flame\n\"Allahu Akbar!\" is what I say before I buck y'all\nMotherfuck busters like vell-Bacardi-yeah nigga had enough y'all\nGet ready to suffer, kneel down, nigga-\nTech N9ne! Killer Klown, nigga\n6 feet underground is where you're found, nigga\n40 water would'a never did a song witcha if he knew the song-\nWas about me, never make a million next time\n(say my name, say my name), like destiny's children, bitch!\n\n[Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n(It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\nNiggas out of bounds should'a shook\nWe bangin' by the book\nGot shot in the neck trying to get away\nAnd to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 on the Hook\n  artist: Brotha Lynch Hung & C‐Bo\n  album: Blocc Movement\n  duration_ms: 265533\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfuckin' hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We banging by the book\n  Got shot in the back tryna get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  [Verse 1: C-\n  Buck these niggas, I'm a killer screamin' regime\n  Deep NAVI's with heat like the A-Team\n  And when my K scream, it's causin' nothin' but murder\n  Bucking these niggas making 'em hate me\n  Yeah, nigga, we don't give a fuck, nigga we thug lords\n  Connected with Tech N9ne and touched for the thug war\n  Who got love for these niggas with no love\n  At all give a fuck guns clutched, only left a ball\n  I know you heard of me ...wanna murder me\n  Cause I'm the nigga that cooked the bird (?) in the kitchen\n  Moms itchin' had the whole gang unwrappin' chickens\n  Nigga and we was headed for the jack strapped\n  With a fat gat, all my niggas down to rat-tat-tat-tat\n  West coast bad boys we was yellin'\n  Now it's West Coast Mafia regime and thug zellin' nigga\n\n  -Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book\n  Got shot in the back tryna get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  Try to get me for my scratch you can get your arm detached\n  If you try to rip me on a track I put you in a ziplock nap sack\n  Believe it I get Glocks at that price I'm like\n  Martini and Rossi Asti Spumante alright niggas that kill 'em up on sight killa nigga night something with tinted widows dumpin' at you hit dump Compliments of South Sacramento you could ask lil zar or big zow\n  I'm a monster, I keep long gats like Charles Bronson\n  And I'm on some\n  Put you in the trunk all fucked up and lonesome\n  It's gon come Armageddon nigga my arms is sweating cause I been busting them model thangs see I'm good with the weapon plus...\n  I really don't like you nigga you whole crew can't bust\n  And I felt that shit way back when you was down with us clown wit us used to smoke a pound wit us\n  Now I'm bound to cut you and your homies up nobody even heard your stuff, said it's 187, 187\n  Me and C-Bo n Tech N9ne on yo bunker bunking with a Mac 11\n\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We bangin' by the book\n  Got shot in the neck trying to get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n\n  Nigga to catch this nigga, I'm ready to peel one\n  Instead of the shoulders I gotta diss toward a niggas grill some\n  Vigilante and villain regime niggas come with steel guns\n  Get ready to sleep cause you tripped when you fuck with a villain\n  Which one of y'all motherfuckers said \"fuck Tech N9ne!\"\n  Shady Pacino, turned C-ho when I clutched that N9ne!\n  Me and my nigga C-Bo Yuk Mezzole not only bust that rhyme!\n  We can do it illegal so the evil'll give a fuck next time!\n  Nigga don't you ever spit my name\n  And thinking that shit's the same\n  Two thou we switched the game and spit the flame\n  \"Allahu Akbar!\" is what I say before I buck y'all\n  Motherfuck busters like vell-Bacardi-yeah nigga had enough y'all\n  Get ready to suffer, kneel down, nigga-\n  Tech N9ne! Killer Klown, nigga\n  6 feet underground is where you're found, nigga\n  40 water would'a never did a song witcha if he knew the song-\n  Was about me, never make a million next time\n  (say my name, say my name), like destiny's children, bitch!\n\n  [Hook: C-Bo] 2x\n  (It's) 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  Niggas out of bounds should'a shook\n  We bangin' by the book\n  Got shot in the neck trying to get away\n  And to a WG it ain't nothing but gun play\n"},{"id":10671400,"name":"187 On A Hook","trackName":"187 On A Hook","artistName":"Brotha Lynch Hung & C-Bo","albumName":"Blocc Movement","duration":264.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\nniggas all around shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book got shot in the back\nTrying to get away, and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\nIt's 187 on a motherfucking hook\nniggas all around shoulda shook\nWe banging by the book got shot in the back\nTrying to get away and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n\nFuck these niggas I'm a killa screaming regime\nDeep navis wit heat like the A team\nAnd when my K scream\nIt's causing nothing but murder\nBucking these niggas making hate me\nYeah nigga, we dont give a fuck nigga\nWe thug lords connected from tech n9ne\nand touched for the thug war\nwho got love for these niggas\nwit no love at all give people fuck guns\nclutched only left a ball.\nI know you heard of me\nWanna murder me\nCause I'm the nigga that cooked that turkey\nclean up in the kitchen.\nMoms itchin had the whole gang unwrapping chickens nigga\nAnd we was headed for the jack\nstrapped wit a fat gat all my niggas\nDown to rat tat tat tat\nWest coast bad boys we was yelling\nNow west coast mafia regime and thug zellin nigga.\n\nTry to get me for my scratch\nand you get your arm detached\nIf you try to rip me on a track\nI put you in a ziploc napsack.\nBelieve it I get glocks at that price,\nI'm like martini and rossi Austispumante alright.\nNiggas that kill em up on sight\nkilla nigga night something wit tinted windows\ndumpin at you hit compliments of south Sacramento.\nYOU could ask lil zar or big zow.\nI'm a monster. I keep long gats,\nlike Charles Bronson, and I'm on some\nPut you in the trunk all fucked up\nand lonesome.\nIt's gon come armegeddon nigga.\nMy arm is sweating\nCause I been busting\nthem model thangs, see?\nI'm good with the weapon,\nand plus, I really don't like you, nigga.\nYou whole crew can't bust\nand I felt that shit way back\nwhen you was down wit us\nclown wit us\nused to smoke a pound wit us.\nNow I'm bound to cut you\nand your homies up.\nNobody even heard your stuff.\nSaid it's 187 187.\nMe and C-Bo and Tech N9ne\non your bunker buckin wit a mac 11.\n\nNigga to catch this nigga\nI'm ready to peel one.\nInstead of shoulders\nI gotta diss toward a niggas grill.\nSome vigilante and villigan regime, niggas,\nCome wit steel guns\nGet ready to sleep cause you tripped\nWhen you fuck wit a villain.\nWhich one of y'all motherfuckers said\nfuck Tech N9ne?\nShady Pacino turned C-hoe\nwhen I clutched that n9ne,\nme and my nigga, C-Bo Yuk,\nmezzole not only bust that rhyme,\nwe can do it illegal\nso the evil'll give a fuck next time.\nNigga don't you ever spit my name ja\nand thinking that shits the same ja.\nTwo thou we switched the game\nand spit the flame wah Allah\nwa augkbar Is what I say.\nBefore I buck ya motherfucker busters,\nlike vell bakardy, yeah nigga.\nHad enough ya? Get ready to suffer.\nKneel down nigga. Tech N9ne Killa Klown nigga.\nSix feet underground\nis where your found nigga.\n40 water would never did a song witcha\nif he knew the song was about me.\nNever make a million next time.\nSay my name,\nsay my name like destinys children bitch.\n\nRepeat","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.06] It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n[00:03.64] niggas all around shoulda shook\n[00:05.79] We banging by the book got shot in the back\n[00:08.09] Trying to get away, and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n[00:12.03] It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n[00:14.50] niggas all around shoulda shook\n[00:16.76] We banging by the book got shot in the back\n[00:19.19] Trying to get away and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n[00:23.07] Fuck these niggas I'm a killa screaming regime\n[00:25.99] Deep navis wit heat like the A team\n[00:28.74] And when my K scream\n[00:30.40] It's causing nothing but murder\n[00:32.21] Bucking these niggas making hate me\n[00:34.29] Yeah nigga, we dont give a fuck nigga\n[00:36.01] We thug lords connected from tech n9ne\n[00:37.82] and touched for the thug war\n[00:39.60] who got love for these niggas\n[00:41.43] wit no love at all give people fuck guns\n[00:43.55] clutched only left a ball.\n[00:45.10] I know you heard of me\n[00:47.62] Wanna murder me\n[00:49.42] Cause I'm the nigga that cooked that turkey\n[00:51.25] clean up in the kitchen.\n[00:53.12] Moms itchin had the whole gang unwrapping chickens nigga\n[00:56.16] And we was headed for the jack\n[00:57.80] strapped wit a fat gat all my niggas\n[01:00.69] Down to rat tat tat tat\n[01:02.15] West coast bad boys we was yelling\n[01:04.68] Now west coast mafia regime and thug zellin nigga.\n[01:28.99] Try to get me for my scratch\n[01:29.95] and you get your arm detached\n[01:31.14] If you try to rip me on a track\n[01:32.64] I put you in a ziploc napsack.\n[01:34.24] Believe it I get glocks at that price,\n[01:35.54] I'm like martini and rossi Austispumante alright.\n[01:37.98] Niggas that kill em up on sight\n[01:39.64] killa nigga night something wit tinted windows\n[01:41.31] dumpin at you hit compliments of south Sacramento.\n[01:43.77] YOU could ask lil zar or big zow.\n[01:45.22] I'm a monster. I keep long gats,\n[01:46.82] like Charles Bronson, and I'm on some\n[01:48.54] Put you in the trunk all fucked up\n[01:50.06] and lonesome.\n[01:50.77] It's gon come armegeddon nigga.\n[01:52.19] My arm is sweating\n[01:53.28] Cause I been busting\n[01:54.22] them model thangs, see?\n[01:55.12] I'm good with the weapon,\n[01:56.18] and plus, I really don't like you, nigga.\n[01:57.98] You whole crew can't bust\n[01:58.80] and I felt that shit way back\n[02:00.20] when you was down wit us\n[02:01.56] clown wit us\n[02:02.63] used to smoke a pound wit us.\n[02:04.26] Now I'm bound to cut you\n[02:05.32] and your homies up.\n[02:06.05] Nobody even heard your stuff.\n[02:07.35] Said it's 187 187.\n[02:10.08] Me and C-Bo and Tech N9ne\n[02:10.97] on your bunker buckin wit a mac 11.\n[02:35.06] Nigga to catch this nigga\n[02:36.07] I'm ready to peel one.\n[02:37.36] Instead of shoulders\n[02:38.02] I gotta diss toward a niggas grill.\n[02:39.61] Some vigilante and villigan regime, niggas,\n[02:41.75] Come wit steel guns\n[02:42.64] Get ready to sleep cause you tripped\n[02:44.08] When you fuck wit a villain.\n[02:45.45] Which one of y'all motherfuckers said\n[02:46.69] fuck Tech N9ne?\n[02:47.72] Shady Pacino turned C-hoe\n[02:49.28] when I clutched that n9ne,\n[02:50.43] me and my nigga, C-Bo Yuk,\n[02:51.78] mezzole not only bust that rhyme,\n[02:53.15] we can do it illegal\n[02:53.93] so the evil'll give a fuck next time.\n[02:55.97] Nigga don't you ever spit my name ja\n[02:57.87] and thinking that shits the same ja.\n[02:59.15] Two thou we switched the game\n[03:01.16] and spit the flame wah Allah\n[03:02.36] wa augkbar Is what I say.\n[03:03.65] Before I buck ya motherfucker busters,\n[03:05.16] like vell bakardy, yeah nigga.\n[03:06.62] Had enough ya? Get ready to suffer.\n[03:08.09] Kneel down nigga. Tech N9ne Killa Klown nigga.\n[03:10.83] Six feet underground\n[03:12.05] is where your found nigga.\n[03:13.04] 40 water would never did a song witcha\n[03:14.68] if he knew the song was about me.\n[03:16.03] Never make a million next time.\n[03:17.62] Say my name,\n[03:18.34] say my name like destinys children bitch.\n[03:20.30] Repeat\n[03:26.08] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 187 On A Hook\n  artist: Brotha Lynch Hung & C-Bo\n  album: Blocc Movement\n  duration_ms: 264000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  start_ms: 60\n  end_ms: 3640\n- text: niggas all around shoulda shook\n  start_ms: 3640\n  end_ms: 5790\n- text: We banging by the book got shot in the back\n  start_ms: 5790\n  end_ms: 8090\n- text: Trying to get away, and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n  start_ms: 8090\n  end_ms: 12030\n- text: It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  start_ms: 12030\n  end_ms: 14500\n- text: niggas all around shoulda shook\n  start_ms: 14500\n  end_ms: 16760\n- text: We banging by the book got shot in the back\n  start_ms: 16760\n  end_ms: 19190\n- text: Trying to get away and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n  start_ms: 19190\n  end_ms: 23070\n- text: Fuck these niggas I'm a killa screaming regime\n  start_ms: 23070\n  end_ms: 25990\n- text: Deep navis wit heat like the A team\n  start_ms: 25990\n  end_ms: 28740\n- text: And when my K scream\n  start_ms: 28740\n  end_ms: 30400\n- text: It's causing nothing but murder\n  start_ms: 30400\n  end_ms: 32210\n- text: Bucking these niggas making hate me\n  start_ms: 32210\n  end_ms: 34290\n- text: Yeah nigga, we dont give a fuck nigga\n  start_ms: 34290\n  end_ms: 36010\n- text: We thug lords connected from tech n9ne\n  start_ms: 36010\n  end_ms: 37820\n- text: and touched for the thug war\n  start_ms: 37820\n  end_ms: 39600\n- text: who got love for these niggas\n  start_ms: 39600\n  end_ms: 41430\n- text: wit no love at all give people fuck guns\n  start_ms: 41430\n  end_ms: 43550\n- text: clutched only left a ball.\n  start_ms: 43550\n  end_ms: 45100\n- text: I know you heard of me\n  start_ms: 45100\n  end_ms: 47620\n- text: Wanna murder me\n  start_ms: 47620\n  end_ms: 49420\n- text: Cause I'm the nigga that cooked that turkey\n  start_ms: 49420\n  end_ms: 51250\n- text: clean up in the kitchen.\n  start_ms: 51250\n  end_ms: 53120\n- text: Moms itchin had the whole gang unwrapping chickens nigga\n  start_ms: 53120\n  end_ms: 56160\n- text: And we was headed for the jack\n  start_ms: 56160\n  end_ms: 57800\n- text: strapped wit a fat gat all my niggas\n  start_ms: 57800\n  end_ms: 60690\n- text: Down to rat tat tat tat\n  start_ms: 60690\n  end_ms: 62150\n- text: West coast bad boys we was yelling\n  start_ms: 62150\n  end_ms: 64680\n- text: Now west coast mafia regime and thug zellin nigga.\n  start_ms: 64680\n  end_ms: 88990\n- text: Try to get me for my scratch\n  start_ms: 88990\n  end_ms: 89950\n- text: and you get your arm detached\n  start_ms: 89950\n  end_ms: 91140\n- text: If you try to rip me on a track\n  start_ms: 91140\n  end_ms: 92640\n- text: I put you in a ziploc napsack.\n  start_ms: 92640\n  end_ms: 94240\n- text: Believe it I get glocks at that price,\n  start_ms: 94240\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: I'm like martini and rossi Austispumante alright.\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 97980\n- text: Niggas that kill em up on sight\n  start_ms: 97980\n  end_ms: 99640\n- text: killa nigga night something wit tinted windows\n  start_ms: 99640\n  end_ms: 101310\n- text: dumpin at you hit compliments of south Sacramento.\n  start_ms: 101310\n  end_ms: 103770\n- text: YOU could ask lil zar or big zow.\n  start_ms: 103770\n  end_ms: 105220\n- text: I'm a monster. I keep long gats,\n  start_ms: 105220\n  end_ms: 106820\n- text: like Charles Bronson, and I'm on some\n  start_ms: 106820\n  end_ms: 108540\n- text: Put you in the trunk all fucked up\n  start_ms: 108540\n  end_ms: 110060\n- text: and lonesome.\n  start_ms: 110060\n  end_ms: 110770\n- text: It's gon come armegeddon nigga.\n  start_ms: 110770\n  end_ms: 112190\n- text: My arm is sweating\n  start_ms: 112190\n  end_ms: 113280\n- text: Cause I been busting\n  start_ms: 113280\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: them model thangs, see?\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 115120\n- text: I'm good with the weapon,\n  start_ms: 115120\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: and plus, I really don't like you, nigga.\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 117980\n- text: You whole crew can't bust\n  start_ms: 117980\n  end_ms: 118800\n- text: and I felt that shit way back\n  start_ms: 118800\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: when you was down wit us\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 121560\n- text: clown wit us\n  start_ms: 121560\n  end_ms: 122630\n- text: used to smoke a pound wit us.\n  start_ms: 122630\n  end_ms: 124260\n- text: Now I'm bound to cut you\n  start_ms: 124260\n  end_ms: 125320\n- text: and your homies up.\n  start_ms: 125320\n  end_ms: 126050\n- text: Nobody even heard your stuff.\n  start_ms: 126050\n  end_ms: 127350\n- text: Said it's 187 187.\n  start_ms: 127350\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: Me and C-Bo and Tech N9ne\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 130970\n- text: on your bunker buckin wit a mac 11.\n  start_ms: 130970\n  end_ms: 155060\n- text: Nigga to catch this nigga\n  start_ms: 155060\n  end_ms: 156070\n- text: I'm ready to peel one.\n  start_ms: 156070\n  end_ms: 157360\n- text: Instead of shoulders\n  start_ms: 157360\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: I gotta diss toward a niggas grill.\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 159610\n- text: Some vigilante and villigan regime, niggas,\n  start_ms: 159610\n  end_ms: 161750\n- text: Come wit steel guns\n  start_ms: 161750\n  end_ms: 162640\n- text: Get ready to sleep cause you tripped\n  start_ms: 162640\n  end_ms: 164080\n- text: When you fuck wit a villain.\n  start_ms: 164080\n  end_ms: 165450\n- text: Which one of y'all motherfuckers said\n  start_ms: 165450\n  end_ms: 166690\n- text: fuck Tech N9ne?\n  start_ms: 166690\n  end_ms: 167720\n- text: Shady Pacino turned C-hoe\n  start_ms: 167720\n  end_ms: 169280\n- text: when I clutched that n9ne,\n  start_ms: 169280\n  end_ms: 170430\n- text: me and my nigga, C-Bo Yuk,\n  start_ms: 170430\n  end_ms: 171780\n- text: mezzole not only bust that rhyme,\n  start_ms: 171780\n  end_ms: 173150\n- text: we can do it illegal\n  start_ms: 173150\n  end_ms: 173930\n- text: so the evil'll give a fuck next time.\n  start_ms: 173930\n  end_ms: 175970\n- text: Nigga don't you ever spit my name ja\n  start_ms: 175970\n  end_ms: 177870\n- text: and thinking that shits the same ja.\n  start_ms: 177870\n  end_ms: 179150\n- text: Two thou we switched the game\n  start_ms: 179150\n  end_ms: 181160\n- text: and spit the flame wah Allah\n  start_ms: 181160\n  end_ms: 182360\n- text: wa augkbar Is what I say.\n  start_ms: 182360\n  end_ms: 183650\n- text: Before I buck ya motherfucker busters,\n  start_ms: 183650\n  end_ms: 185160\n- text: like vell bakardy, yeah nigga.\n  start_ms: 185160\n  end_ms: 186620\n- text: Had enough ya? Get ready to suffer.\n  start_ms: 186620\n  end_ms: 188090\n- text: Kneel down nigga. Tech N9ne Killa Klown nigga.\n  start_ms: 188090\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Six feet underground\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 192050\n- text: is where your found nigga.\n  start_ms: 192050\n  end_ms: 193040\n- text: 40 water would never did a song witcha\n  start_ms: 193040\n  end_ms: 194680\n- text: if he knew the song was about me.\n  start_ms: 194680\n  end_ms: 196030\n- text: Never make a million next time.\n  start_ms: 196030\n  end_ms: 197620\n- text: Say my name,\n  start_ms: 197620\n  end_ms: 198340\n- text: say my name like destinys children bitch.\n  start_ms: 198340\n  end_ms: 200300\n- text: Repeat\n  start_ms: 200300\n  end_ms: 206080\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 206080\nplain: |-\n  It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  niggas all around shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book got shot in the back\n  Trying to get away, and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n  It's 187 on a motherfucking hook\n  niggas all around shoulda shook\n  We banging by the book got shot in the back\n  Trying to get away and to a vigi it ain't nothin but gun play.\n\n  Fuck these niggas I'm a killa screaming regime\n  Deep navis wit heat like the A team\n  And when my K scream\n  It's causing nothing but murder\n  Bucking these niggas making hate me\n  Yeah nigga, we dont give a fuck nigga\n  We thug lords connected from tech n9ne\n  and touched for the thug war\n  who got love for these niggas\n  wit no love at all give people fuck guns\n  clutched only left a ball.\n  I know you heard of me\n  Wanna murder me\n  Cause I'm the nigga that cooked that turkey\n  clean up in the kitchen.\n  Moms itchin had the whole gang unwrapping chickens nigga\n  And we was headed for the jack\n  strapped wit a fat gat all my niggas\n  Down to rat tat tat tat\n  West coast bad boys we was yelling\n  Now west coast mafia regime and thug zellin nigga.\n\n  Try to get me for my scratch\n  and you get your arm detached\n  If you try to rip me on a track\n  I put you in a ziploc napsack.\n  Believe it I get glocks at that price,\n  I'm like martini and rossi Austispumante alright.\n  Niggas that kill em up on sight\n  killa nigga night something wit tinted windows\n  dumpin at you hit compliments of south Sacramento.\n  YOU could ask lil zar or big zow.\n  I'm a monster. I keep long gats,\n  like Charles Bronson, and I'm on some\n  Put you in the trunk all fucked up\n  and lonesome.\n  It's gon come armegeddon nigga.\n  My arm is sweating\n  Cause I been busting\n  them model thangs, see?\n  I'm good with the weapon,\n  and plus, I really don't like you, nigga.\n  You whole crew can't bust\n  and I felt that shit way back\n  when you was down wit us\n  clown wit us\n  used to smoke a pound wit us.\n  Now I'm bound to cut you\n  and your homies up.\n  Nobody even heard your stuff.\n  Said it's 187 187.\n  Me and C-Bo and Tech N9ne\n  on your bunker buckin wit a mac 11.\n\n  Nigga to catch this nigga\n  I'm ready to peel one.\n  Instead of shoulders\n  I gotta diss toward a niggas grill.\n  Some vigilante and villigan regime, niggas,\n  Come wit steel guns\n  Get ready to sleep cause you tripped\n  When you fuck wit a villain.\n  Which one of y'all motherfuckers said\n  fuck Tech N9ne?\n  Shady Pacino turned C-hoe\n  when I clutched that n9ne,\n  me and my nigga, C-Bo Yuk,\n  mezzole not only bust that rhyme,\n  we can do it illegal\n  so the evil'll give a fuck next time.\n  Nigga don't you ever spit my name ja\n  and thinking that shits the same ja.\n  Two thou we switched the game\n  and spit the flame wah Allah\n  wa augkbar Is what I say.\n  Before I buck ya motherfucker busters,\n  like vell bakardy, yeah nigga.\n  Had enough ya? Get ready to suffer.\n  Kneel down nigga. Tech N9ne Killa Klown nigga.\n  Six feet underground\n  is where your found nigga.\n  40 water would never did a song witcha\n  if he knew the song was about me.\n  Never make a million next time.\n  Say my name,\n  say my name like destinys children bitch.\n\n  Repeat\n"}]