[{"id":33755226,"name":"No Peace (ft. Spice 1, Boss, Ice-T, Treach & Powerlord JEL)","trackName":"No Peace (ft. Spice 1, Boss, Ice-T, Treach & Powerlord JEL)","artistName":"South Central Cartel","albumName":"Murder Squad: Nationwide","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Every time I cut on my TV\nOne of my black brothers have been smoked\nAnd they say it's a truce\nHuh, they don't want no peace\n\nHanging on the back streets, chilling with the OG's\nS.C. to the grave and it's on for the O-Z's\nYoung brothers wanna run up, better put your guns up\nLiable to get your punk ass done up\nCartel ain't tripping, rides never slipping\nWhen all the B.G.'s start ripping\nWhere you from fool, it's the same gang\nBuck buck from the nines, everyday it's the same thing\n\nRaised up on the South Central blocks\nNo P-E-A-C-E (pow) from another Glock\nAs I move from the M-U-R-D-E-R squad\nFreeze up, G's up (why), gangstas living hard\nYoung Rod don't slow down, the old fashioned ho down\nRoll D's and move keys, so why should I stop now\nRight now I'm on top and don't wanna fall\nNo peace on my streets so that makes it hard\n\nI keep my Glock Glock cocked, as I bail down your block block\nSeventeen shots (move out) 187 drop\nDeath Row full on the solo, khakis on yayo\nWhere you from (how) South Central\nTrizip the wizip cause I\nBeast slide as we ride the Westside you die\nNo peace as I come, run punk, it's a smoke\nG's rule the street (really though) I'm a loc\nAs I Crip to a Blood and a Blood to a Crip\nGet your ass straight ripped by the squad\nIf you set trip, fool\n\nI been way down for a long time, long crime\nLong ends, long cash, you talking about mine kid\nYou did a bid and you came home cock-D\nYou twenty three baby boy, you talking bout OG, huh\nI'm thirty four, I use gats to score\nGag and tying hoes in the backs of jewelry stores\nG-rides, I'm talking about two, thought you knew\nOne to work and one to ride home to the crew\nBut nowadays brothers wanna flip, set trip\nIt ain't even Bloods, it's straight Crips killing Crips\n\nLoc jail ain't never gonna cease\nCause I gets my peace, like shooting from the back seat\nWhen I'm in my ride I'm coming out to come and fade you chumps\nPowerlord's packing fifty rounds for you little punks\nWhen it's on, you'll hear my crew coming through\nWon't be in red or a brother that's ragging blue\nCause I just flex and break necks\nCause my set's all Mexican so don't forget\n\nThey don't want no peace or a brother\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\nThey don't want no peace or a brother\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n\nSmoking a bomb the bomb, I treat my kind trying not to be a felon\nTrying to keep my cool like a OG but fools yelling\nOh what should I do\nCause it's a buster in the crowd talking bad about my whole crew\nI'm ready to do a walk by at my own show\nOn these fools in the audience cause they don't know\nHow to act and enjoy they self\nSo let the pigs come along and destroy they self\nSmobbed down the block I gotta carry a nine\nCause niggas don't want no peace, they wanna jack for mine\nBut I'm a G like the song\nSo I take a gangsta hit from the bomb and parlay\n\nThey don't want no peace so I'm a pack a piece\nRolling way deep in the cut on the back streets\nSmobbing with my homies, everybody strapped\nCause it's always a fool trying to peel your cap\nUp in Oakland they ain't really tripping on the blue or the red\nJust get caught slipping, catch two to the head\nThey don't want peace man, they want funk\nSo let it jump young punk, you can pop the trunk\nAnd let freedom ring like it should be\nTwenty years in the pen is all good G\nNow what I'm saying is you don't have to fade your brothers\nBe a G and stop going out like suckers\n\nIt's that nigga they call B-O to the double dollar sign\nThey don't want no peace, F'ing G\nOnly problem mine's a nine millimeter\nThen again I be packing all sorts of clips\nRoll up and shoot you off your own front porch and trip\nIt's unfortunate, dig it, the rules of survival\nLoc up and smoke him for that, sucker gets to be a rival\nThe psychopathic boss, get my kill on, beef is still on\nAnd what I think is that you picked\nThe wrong ass chick for a peace song\nGet up out and dodge if you step into the Murder Squad\nFor the nine squad, bring it on, face to face it\nBefore I tap out, I'm leaving a shout out to the organization\n\nYo, P-E-A-C-E, some kid done did slid\nDown a razorblade and landed in a alcohol river\nNow that ass is in trouble, I double eye with a trigga\nClicks as thick as a brick, it's a new day and a new way\nSo mother motherfucker what the news say\nThe lesser rising brothers got no kind of thang\nForget burning our hoods, our hoods are burning fucking banks\nAnd stolen tanks, while rolling dank that thing that stank\nLooking to rank, huh huh, you think we ain't\nThis is a killer Cali rally in the East Coast connection\nInvasion taking over this nation\nThis stolen country had better get real\nBefore our kids start practicing drive-bys on big wheels\n\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\nThey don't want no peace or a brother\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\nThey don't want no peace, they don't want no peace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: No Peace (ft. Spice 1, Boss, Ice-T, Treach & Powerlord JEL)\n  artist: South Central Cartel\n  album: 'Murder Squad: Nationwide'\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Every time I cut on my TV\n  One of my black brothers have been smoked\n  And they say it's a truce\n  Huh, they don't want no peace\n\n  Hanging on the back streets, chilling with the OG's\n  S.C. to the grave and it's on for the O-Z's\n  Young brothers wanna run up, better put your guns up\n  Liable to get your punk ass done up\n  Cartel ain't tripping, rides never slipping\n  When all the B.G.'s start ripping\n  Where you from fool, it's the same gang\n  Buck buck from the nines, everyday it's the same thing\n\n  Raised up on the South Central blocks\n  No P-E-A-C-E (pow) from another Glock\n  As I move from the M-U-R-D-E-R squad\n  Freeze up, G's up (why), gangstas living hard\n  Young Rod don't slow down, the old fashioned ho down\n  Roll D's and move keys, so why should I stop now\n  Right now I'm on top and don't wanna fall\n  No peace on my streets so that makes it hard\n\n  I keep my Glock Glock cocked, as I bail down your block block\n  Seventeen shots (move out) 187 drop\n  Death Row full on the solo, khakis on yayo\n  Where you from (how) South Central\n  Trizip the wizip cause I\n  Beast slide as we ride the Westside you die\n  No peace as I come, run punk, it's a smoke\n  G's rule the street (really though) I'm a loc\n  As I Crip to a Blood and a Blood to a Crip\n  Get your ass straight ripped by the squad\n  If you set trip, fool\n\n  I been way down for a long time, long crime\n  Long ends, long cash, you talking about mine kid\n  You did a bid and you came home cock-D\n  You twenty three baby boy, you talking bout OG, huh\n  I'm thirty four, I use gats to score\n  Gag and tying hoes in the backs of jewelry stores\n  G-rides, I'm talking about two, thought you knew\n  One to work and one to ride home to the crew\n  But nowadays brothers wanna flip, set trip\n  It ain't even Bloods, it's straight Crips killing Crips\n\n  Loc jail ain't never gonna cease\n  Cause I gets my peace, like shooting from the back seat\n  When I'm in my ride I'm coming out to come and fade you chumps\n  Powerlord's packing fifty rounds for you little punks\n  When it's on, you'll hear my crew coming through\n  Won't be in red or a brother that's ragging blue\n  Cause I just flex and break necks\n  Cause my set's all Mexican so don't forget\n\n  They don't want no peace or a brother\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n  They don't want no peace or a brother\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n\n  Smoking a bomb the bomb, I treat my kind trying not to be a felon\n  Trying to keep my cool like a OG but fools yelling\n  Oh what should I do\n  Cause it's a buster in the crowd talking bad about my whole crew\n  I'm ready to do a walk by at my own show\n  On these fools in the audience cause they don't know\n  How to act and enjoy they self\n  So let the pigs come along and destroy they self\n  Smobbed down the block I gotta carry a nine\n  Cause niggas don't want no peace, they wanna jack for mine\n  But I'm a G like the song\n  So I take a gangsta hit from the bomb and parlay\n\n  They don't want no peace so I'm a pack a piece\n  Rolling way deep in the cut on the back streets\n  Smobbing with my homies, everybody strapped\n  Cause it's always a fool trying to peel your cap\n  Up in Oakland they ain't really tripping on the blue or the red\n  Just get caught slipping, catch two to the head\n  They don't want peace man, they want funk\n  So let it jump young punk, you can pop the trunk\n  And let freedom ring like it should be\n  Twenty years in the pen is all good G\n  Now what I'm saying is you don't have to fade your brothers\n  Be a G and stop going out like suckers\n\n  It's that nigga they call B-O to the double dollar sign\n  They don't want no peace, F'ing G\n  Only problem mine's a nine millimeter\n  Then again I be packing all sorts of clips\n  Roll up and shoot you off your own front porch and trip\n  It's unfortunate, dig it, the rules of survival\n  Loc up and smoke him for that, sucker gets to be a rival\n  The psychopathic boss, get my kill on, beef is still on\n  And what I think is that you picked\n  The wrong ass chick for a peace song\n  Get up out and dodge if you step into the Murder Squad\n  For the nine squad, bring it on, face to face it\n  Before I tap out, I'm leaving a shout out to the organization\n\n  Yo, P-E-A-C-E, some kid done did slid\n  Down a razorblade and landed in a alcohol river\n  Now that ass is in trouble, I double eye with a trigga\n  Clicks as thick as a brick, it's a new day and a new way\n  So mother motherfucker what the news say\n  The lesser rising brothers got no kind of thang\n  Forget burning our hoods, our hoods are burning fucking banks\n  And stolen tanks, while rolling dank that thing that stank\n  Looking to rank, huh huh, you think we ain't\n  This is a killer Cali rally in the East Coast connection\n  Invasion taking over this nation\n  This stolen country had better get real\n  Before our kids start practicing drive-bys on big wheels\n\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n  They don't want no peace or a brother\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n  They don't want no peace, they don't want no peace\n"},{"id":34133463,"name":"No Peace","trackName":"No Peace","artistName":"Murder Squad, South Central Cartel, ICE-T, Powerlord Jel, Spice 1, Ant Banks, Boss, Treach","albumName":"G-Funk Way of Life: Ghetto Hits","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Every time I cut on my TV\nOne of my black brothers have been smoked\nAnd they say it's a truce\nHuh, they don't want no peace\n\nHanging on the back streets, chilling with the OG's\nS.C. to the grave and it's on for the O-Z's\nYoung brothers wanna run up, better put your guns up\nLiable to get your punk ass done up\nCartel ain't tripping, rides never slipping\nWhen all the B.G.'s start ripping\nWhere you from fool, it's the same gang\nBuck buck from the nines, everyday it's the same thing\n\nRaised up on the South Central blocks\nNo P-E-A-C-E (pow) from another Glock\nAs I move from the M-U-R-D-E-R squad\nFreeze up, G's up (why), gangstas living hard\nYoung Rod don't slow down, the old fashioned ho down\nRoll D's and move keys, so why should I stop now\nRight now I'm on top and don't wanna fall\nNo peace on my streets so that makes it hard\n\nI keep my Glock Glock cocked, as I bail down your block block\nSeventeen shots (move out) 187 drop\nDeath Row full on the solo, khakis on yayo\nWhere you from (how) South Central\nTrizip the wizip cause I\nBeast slide as we ride the Westside you die\nNo peace as I come, run punk, it's a smoke\nG's rule the street (really though) I'm a loc\nAs I Crip to a Blood and a Blood to a Crip\nGet your ass straight ripped by the squad\nIf you set trip, fool\n\nI been way down for a long time, long crime\nLong ends, long cash, you talking about mine kid\nYou did a bid and you came home cock-D\nYou twenty three baby boy, you talking bout OG, huh\nI'm thirty four, I use gats to score\nGag and tying hoes in the backs of jewelry stores\nG-rides, I'm talking about two, thought you knew\nOne to work and one to ride home to the crew\nBut nowadays brothers wanna flip, set trip\nIt ain't even Bloods, it's straight Crips killing Crips\n\nLoc jail ain't never gonna cease\nCause I gets my peace, like shooting from the back seat\nWhen I'm in my ride I'm coming out to come and fade you chumps\nPowerlord's packing fifty rounds for you little punks\nWhen it's on, you'll hear my crew coming through\nWon't be in red or a brother that's ragging blue\nCause I just flex and break necks\nCause my set's all Mexican so don't forget\n\nThey don't want no peace or a brother\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\nThey don't want no peace or a brother\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n\nSmoking a bomb the bomb, I treat my kind trying not to be a felon\nTrying to keep my cool like a OG but fools yelling\nOh what should I do\nCause it's a buster in the crowd talking bad about my whole crew\nI'm ready to do a walk by at my own show\nOn these fools in the audience cause they don't know\nHow to act and enjoy they self\nSo let the pigs come along and destroy they self\nSmobbed down the block I gotta carry a nine\nCause niggas don't want no peace, they wanna jack for mine\nBut I'm a G like the song\nSo I take a gangsta hit from the bomb and parlay\n\nThey don't want no peace so I'm a pack a piece\nRolling way deep in the cut on the back streets\nSmobbing with my homies, everybody strapped\nCause it's always a fool trying to peel your cap\nUp in Oakland they ain't really tripping on the blue or the red\nJust get caught slipping, catch two to the head\nThey don't want peace man, they want funk\nSo let it jump young punk, you can pop the trunk\nAnd let freedom ring like it should be\nTwenty years in the pen is all good G\nNow what I'm saying is you don't have to fade your brothers\nBe a G and stop going out like suckers\n\nIt's that nigga they call B-O to the double dollar sign\nThey don't want no peace, F'ing G\nOnly problem mine's a nine millimeter\nThen again I be packing all sorts of clips\nRoll up and shoot you off your own front porch and trip\nIt's unfortunate, dig it, the rules of survival\nLoc up and smoke him for that, sucker gets to be a rival\nThe psychopathic boss, get my kill on, beef is still on\nAnd what I think is that you picked\nThe wrong ass chick for a peace song\nGet up out and dodge if you step into the Murder Squad\nFor the nine squad, bring it on, face to face it\nBefore I tap out, I'm leaving a shout out to the organization\n\nYo, P-E-A-C-E, some kid done did slid\nDown a razorblade and landed in a alcohol river\nNow that ass is in trouble, I double eye with a trigga\nClicks as thick as a brick, it's a new day and a new way\nSo mother motherfucker what the news say\nThe lesser rising brothers got no kind of thang\nForget burning our hoods, our hoods are burning fucking banks\nAnd stolen tanks, while rolling dank that thing that stank\nLooking to rank, huh huh, you think we ain't\nThis is a killer Cali rally in the East Coast connection\nInvasion taking over this nation\nThis stolen country had better get real\nBefore our kids start practicing drive-bys on big wheels\n\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\nThey don't want no peace or a brother\nThe brothers in the streets don't want no peace\nThey don't want no peace, they don't want no peace","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: No Peace\n  artist: Murder Squad, South Central Cartel, ICE-T, Powerlord Jel, Spice 1, Ant Banks, Boss, Treach\n  album: 'G-Funk Way of Life: Ghetto Hits'\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Every time I cut on my TV\n  One of my black brothers have been smoked\n  And they say it's a truce\n  Huh, they don't want no peace\n\n  Hanging on the back streets, chilling with the OG's\n  S.C. to the grave and it's on for the O-Z's\n  Young brothers wanna run up, better put your guns up\n  Liable to get your punk ass done up\n  Cartel ain't tripping, rides never slipping\n  When all the B.G.'s start ripping\n  Where you from fool, it's the same gang\n  Buck buck from the nines, everyday it's the same thing\n\n  Raised up on the South Central blocks\n  No P-E-A-C-E (pow) from another Glock\n  As I move from the M-U-R-D-E-R squad\n  Freeze up, G's up (why), gangstas living hard\n  Young Rod don't slow down, the old fashioned ho down\n  Roll D's and move keys, so why should I stop now\n  Right now I'm on top and don't wanna fall\n  No peace on my streets so that makes it hard\n\n  I keep my Glock Glock cocked, as I bail down your block block\n  Seventeen shots (move out) 187 drop\n  Death Row full on the solo, khakis on yayo\n  Where you from (how) South Central\n  Trizip the wizip cause I\n  Beast slide as we ride the Westside you die\n  No peace as I come, run punk, it's a smoke\n  G's rule the street (really though) I'm a loc\n  As I Crip to a Blood and a Blood to a Crip\n  Get your ass straight ripped by the squad\n  If you set trip, fool\n\n  I been way down for a long time, long crime\n  Long ends, long cash, you talking about mine kid\n  You did a bid and you came home cock-D\n  You twenty three baby boy, you talking bout OG, huh\n  I'm thirty four, I use gats to score\n  Gag and tying hoes in the backs of jewelry stores\n  G-rides, I'm talking about two, thought you knew\n  One to work and one to ride home to the crew\n  But nowadays brothers wanna flip, set trip\n  It ain't even Bloods, it's straight Crips killing Crips\n\n  Loc jail ain't never gonna cease\n  Cause I gets my peace, like shooting from the back seat\n  When I'm in my ride I'm coming out to come and fade you chumps\n  Powerlord's packing fifty rounds for you little punks\n  When it's on, you'll hear my crew coming through\n  Won't be in red or a brother that's ragging blue\n  Cause I just flex and break necks\n  Cause my set's all Mexican so don't forget\n\n  They don't want no peace or a brother\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n  They don't want no peace or a brother\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n\n  Smoking a bomb the bomb, I treat my kind trying not to be a felon\n  Trying to keep my cool like a OG but fools yelling\n  Oh what should I do\n  Cause it's a buster in the crowd talking bad about my whole crew\n  I'm ready to do a walk by at my own show\n  On these fools in the audience cause they don't know\n  How to act and enjoy they self\n  So let the pigs come along and destroy they self\n  Smobbed down the block I gotta carry a nine\n  Cause niggas don't want no peace, they wanna jack for mine\n  But I'm a G like the song\n  So I take a gangsta hit from the bomb and parlay\n\n  They don't want no peace so I'm a pack a piece\n  Rolling way deep in the cut on the back streets\n  Smobbing with my homies, everybody strapped\n  Cause it's always a fool trying to peel your cap\n  Up in Oakland they ain't really tripping on the blue or the red\n  Just get caught slipping, catch two to the head\n  They don't want peace man, they want funk\n  So let it jump young punk, you can pop the trunk\n  And let freedom ring like it should be\n  Twenty years in the pen is all good G\n  Now what I'm saying is you don't have to fade your brothers\n  Be a G and stop going out like suckers\n\n  It's that nigga they call B-O to the double dollar sign\n  They don't want no peace, F'ing G\n  Only problem mine's a nine millimeter\n  Then again I be packing all sorts of clips\n  Roll up and shoot you off your own front porch and trip\n  It's unfortunate, dig it, the rules of survival\n  Loc up and smoke him for that, sucker gets to be a rival\n  The psychopathic boss, get my kill on, beef is still on\n  And what I think is that you picked\n  The wrong ass chick for a peace song\n  Get up out and dodge if you step into the Murder Squad\n  For the nine squad, bring it on, face to face it\n  Before I tap out, I'm leaving a shout out to the organization\n\n  Yo, P-E-A-C-E, some kid done did slid\n  Down a razorblade and landed in a alcohol river\n  Now that ass is in trouble, I double eye with a trigga\n  Clicks as thick as a brick, it's a new day and a new way\n  So mother motherfucker what the news say\n  The lesser rising brothers got no kind of thang\n  Forget burning our hoods, our hoods are burning fucking banks\n  And stolen tanks, while rolling dank that thing that stank\n  Looking to rank, huh huh, you think we ain't\n  This is a killer Cali rally in the East Coast connection\n  Invasion taking over this nation\n  This stolen country had better get real\n  Before our kids start practicing drive-bys on big wheels\n\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n  They don't want no peace or a brother\n  The brothers in the streets don't want no peace\n  They don't want no peace, they don't want no peace\n"}]