[{"id":13771394,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel","albumName":"South Central Cartel Latest and Greatest","duration":409.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel\n  album: South Central Cartel Latest and Greatest\n  duration_ms: 409000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":32527010,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel","albumName":"The Show","duration":409.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel\n  album: The Show\n  duration_ms: 409000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":24709650,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel","albumName":"Russell Simmons Presents The Show: The Soundtrack","duration":409.333333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel\n  album: 'Russell Simmons Presents The Show: The Soundtrack'\n  duration_ms: 409333\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":33396319,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel","albumName":"The Show: The Soundtrack","duration":409.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel\n  album: 'The Show: The Soundtrack'\n  duration_ms: 409000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":38970718,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel","albumName":"latest & greatest","duration":409.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel\n  album: latest & greatest\n  duration_ms: 409000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":17913547,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel Productions","albumName":"The Show [Original Soundtrack]","duration":409.190063,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel Productions\n  album: The Show [Original Soundtrack]\n  duration_ms: 409190\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":16594069,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel Productions","albumName":"Russell Simmons Pres. The Show: The Soundtrack","duration":409.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel Productions\n  album: 'Russell Simmons Pres. The Show: The Soundtrack'\n  duration_ms: 409000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":16816116,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel Productions","albumName":"The Show","duration":409.417143,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel Productions\n  album: The Show\n  duration_ms: 409417\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":16697727,"name":"Sowhatusayin","trackName":"Sowhatusayin","artistName":"South Central Cartel Productions","albumName":"The Show (OST)","duration":409.39102,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin\n  artist: South Central Cartel Productions\n  album: The Show (OST)\n  duration_ms: 409391\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"},{"id":36309071,"name":"Sowhatusayin'","trackName":"Sowhatusayin'","artistName":"South Central Cartel Productions","albumName":"The Show: The Soundtrack","duration":408.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n[Havoc]\nIt's a motherfuckin shame.\nEverytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\npaper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\nBut um, check this shit out.\nGangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\nAll you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\nshit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n[Havoc]\nBailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\nJumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\nCannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\nGrabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\nMorgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\nMagnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\nWe blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\nGlock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\nBitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\nFelony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\nPump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\nBewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n[Jayo Felony]\nThe original from the block, ready to pop and drop\nGlock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\nHot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\nI'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\nHow I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\nNigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\nFive eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\nPissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\nIt's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\nGettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\nI'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\nHousin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\nGo to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\nNow R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\nI'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\nI'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\nLet's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\nI met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\nPass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\nCuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\nCockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n[Prodeje]\nYeah, headbangas in the house yo.\nYou playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\nYou know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n[Hook1:]\nStep up, step off punk ass niggas\nI flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\nCuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\nOr even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n[Hook2: x2]\nSo what you saying? So what you saying?\nI'm lettin my gat bust\nYou bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n[Prodeje]\nBack on that flow, don't you know\nIt's that Prod from that sqaud\nKickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\nMetamorphisize from that BG to OG\nAll I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\nSmokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\nI'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\nI'm on the creeps on them vouges\nDroppin 6 to them 4's\nMakin records, going gold\nThat's my story in Vouge\nStill try to break me but you're broke\nAs I spoke, loc\nSuckas hate the gunsmoke\nAct I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\nYou think it's settled when we knuckle up\nI got insane like Saddam\nAnd wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n[Young Prod?]\nFive four three two um\nHere it comes, one more time\nPistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\nY'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n[?]\nG's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\nI sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\nSo why must you drive my G flow\nI swallow your ass up like Cujo\nAnd I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\nSeventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\nSo respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\nI be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n[MC Eiht]\nI takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\nI take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\nNigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\nWestside, CPT G's that don't play\nI throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\nThen I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\nMy nigga Bird got my back when we square off\nToe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\nYou get the steel toed boot, to your chin\nYou can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\nNow you squirm like a worm in the dirt\nYou get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\nYou look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\nEiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\nI hit your block cuz I don't care\nLet the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n[Hook2 x2]\n\n[Treach]\nI heard niggas had beef with SCC\nAnd he was headed for the airport\nLanded ass branded way up north\nFrom Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\nTorches porched and piss out the pieces\nNigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\nCuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\nhide in Jersey\nThat was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\nTo think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\nYes, with the murder, I said it flex\nWest coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\nCuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\nThe T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n[Sh'Killa]\nBreak yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\nMurder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\nNine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\nWhile those who rank high in might ride on top\nRetaliation a must when I bust or blast\nRetaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\nCan't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\nSee a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\nBreak yoself, once again it's on\nI'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\nMurder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\nMurder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n[Spice 1]\nNiggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\nEiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\nTakin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\nup your spot\nI'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\nCan't see me like Ray Charles\nKill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\nStabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\nIt's that nigga from the east bay\nKillin off shit when the gat spray\nMotherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\nHigh billers we makin a nigga fry\nLet's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\nWith the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\nWith the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n[Hook1]\n\n[Hook2]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sowhatusayin'\n  artist: South Central Cartel Productions\n  album: 'The Show: The Soundtrack'\n  duration_ms: 408000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (feat. Jayo Felony, MC Eiht, Sh'killa, Spice 1, Treac)\n\n  [Havoc]\n  It's a motherfuckin shame.\n  Everytime I look at the goddamn news, or read a motherfuckin\n  paper, some motherfuckin bitch or nigga tryin to dis gangsta rap.\n  But um, check this shit out.\n  Gangsta rap is here to motherfuckin stay.\n  All you hoes and bitches out there tryin to put a bag on this\n  shit, this shit is here to motherfuckin stay.\n\n  [Havoc]\n  Bailin up outta the cut, I'm breakin em off for this 95 G thang\n  Jumpin up outta that Mustang, gonna let these nuts hang\n  Cannibalistic flow snatchin your neck off\n  Grabin a fuckin tech, lettin this bit takin your chest off\n  Morgify a nigga with the quickness, pissin on brain sites\n  Magnify your heart with this beam, and stomp it like a street light\n  We blow motherfuckas, kickin up dust, droppin that bomb shit\n  Glock cocked on your block, ready to rock it all time\n  Bitch I sack, SCC be that click, Treach and Hav\n  Felony, Prod, H-A-V the OC, you can't see me\n  Pump pump that Havoc'll have it crazy motherfucka\n  Bewitched and brain dead, leavin you headless motherfucka\n\n  [Jayo Felony]\n  The original from the block, ready to pop and drop\n  Glock on cock, Felony's the locest as I focus like a mug shot\n  Hot like rocks, nah fuck that, like boilin lava\n  I'm wicked, sit back and kick it, as I saliva\n  How I took in your eyeball, I call all shots for the GNC\n  Nigga close your eyes cuz you ain't seeing me\n  Five eight, seven fifteen, Bullet Loco still\n  Pissin in a cup, and I'm not givin a fuck\n  It's on, fuck Oliver Stone, he made Colors\n  Gettin paid off gangbangin, I want my money motherfucka\n  I'm a bump ya, pluck ya like a chicken and cut your head off\n  Housin with a hundred thousand, ready to let em\n  Go to the pen, or make ends, that was my option\n  Now R-A-P gon put me up like adoption\n  I'm shoppin for brains and thangs, so marks jet\n  I'm addictive, like double nicotine in cigaretes\n  Let's take this demon to the head loc, you scared loc?\n  I met my fuckin last smoke, leavin these bustas dead broke\n  Pass me the rap on the track and Bullet Loc gon come sick\n  Cuz at the end of the world there's gon be gangstas\n  Cockroaches, and sherm sticks\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Yeah, headbangas in the house yo.\n  You playa hatas can't stop this gangsta shit.\n  You know what I'm sayin? Haha\n\n  [Hook1:]\n  Step up, step off punk ass niggas\n  I flow real soft, soft as medicated cotton\n  Cuz I put my foot up your ass before you pass gas\n  Or even before you're thikin bout farting\n\n  [Hook2: x2]\n  So what you saying? So what you saying?\n  I'm lettin my gat bust\n  You bustas and you marks know I just don't trust\n\n  [Prodeje]\n  Back on that flow, don't you know\n  It's that Prod from that sqaud\n  Kickin up in that dust as I bust as I mob\n  Metamorphisize from that BG to OG\n  All I see is G's but you bustas can't see me\n  Smokin motherfuckas so they bodies are cold\n  I'm kickin up on your ass till you crumble and fold\n  I'm on the creeps on them vouges\n  Droppin 6 to them 4's\n  Makin records, going gold\n  That's my story in Vouge\n  Still try to break me but you're broke\n  As I spoke, loc\n  Suckas hate the gunsmoke\n  Act I peel your cap like a cantaloupe\n  You think it's settled when we knuckle up\n  I got insane like Saddam\n  And wreck your posse with my finger fuck\n\n  [Young Prod?]\n  Five four three two um\n  Here it comes, one more time\n  Pistol whip dump when I'm packin up mine\n  Y'all don't wanna do nothin, I'ma keep on bustin\n  [?]\n  G's need to ease on back, or catch a cap in they knapsack\n  I sprayed your ass with a gauge and leave you dazed for days\n  So why must you drive my G flow\n  I swallow your ass up like Cujo\n  And I got em, hollow point for the gaffle\n  Seventeen [?] in your ass like a raffle\n  So respect me, the Young P-R-O-D\n  I be that nigga that kill you for nineteen ninety G\n\n  [MC Eiht]\n  I takes two to your jaw motherfucka you slip\n  I take two more and watch the swelling of your fat lip\n  Nigga, how'd you figga like a bitch I let you get away\n  Westside, CPT G's that don't play\n  I throws that CPT up, blaze up the blunt\n  Then I steps back and sits down my fuckin cup\n  My nigga Bird got my back when we square off\n  Toe to toe, don't ya know surprise here comes the left blow\n  You get the steel toed boot, to your chin\n  You can't win, oops it splits out your front tooth\n  Now you squirm like a worm in the dirt\n  You get hurt motherfucker cuz we puts in much work\n  You look up to see the barrel of my fuckin strap, playa\n  Eiht Hype best to get ready for a long night\n  I hit your block cuz I don't care\n  Let the glock go tick tock and I hit you what with, geah\n\n  [Hook2 x2]\n\n  [Treach]\n  I heard niggas had beef with SCC\n  And he was headed for the airport\n  Landed ass branded way up north\n  From Ill Town Eiht called me, said leaving with tech nine releases\n  Torches porched and piss out the pieces\n  Nigga wasn't witty nor fuckin worthy\n  Cuz he had beef with Ant Banks, Boss, Spice 1, they tried to\n  hide in Jersey\n  That was the wrong fuckin move, the wrong alley\n  To think the Murder Squad only had connections in Cali\n  Yes, with the murder, I said it flex\n  West coast to east coast quicker than Federal Express\n  Cuz we strike and we don't lack for the wack\n  The T to the R to the E to the A to the C to the H is back!\n\n  [Sh'Killa]\n  Break yoself, it's Sh'Killa, make way while I spray\n  Murder Squad spit out claim, my hood is the bay\n  Nine glock glock, ready to pop or stop\n  While those who rank high in might ride on top\n  Retaliation a must when I bust or blast\n  Retaliation and blank gun in hand with my mask\n  Can't stop me I'm sick and I gives a fuck\n  See a nigga slippin, aim my shit then I bust\n  Break yoself, once again it's on\n  I'm takin all, pump pump, drop gun, head up, hut one\n  Murder Squad, gangsta made beat be the shit\n  Murder Squad, gangstas for life and we sick\n\n  [Spice 1]\n  Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature\n  Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns\n  Takin they shit, gankin they riches, [?] so a nigga can't sew\n  up your spot\n  I'm leavin your shit up in stitches, gotta decapitate motherfuckas\n  Can't see me like Ray Charles\n  Kill em all, stick an ice pick in your shit and have ya HAAA!\n  Stabbin up shit like OJ, shoot em up with the motherfuckin AK\n  It's that nigga from the east bay\n  Killin off shit when the gat spray\n  Motherfuckin hustler, fuck a busta\n  High billers we makin a nigga fry\n  Let's all die, murder up some niggas call \"Can I?\"\n  With the infrared up on the nutsac, man blouw blouw!\n  With the infrared up on them throats, man go blouw blouw!\n\n  [Hook1]\n\n  [Hook2]\n"}]