Horseshoe G.A.N.G. - Ya'll Ain't Ready Lyrics
feat. Livin' Proof[Livin' Proof]My west coast niggas officialYou heard that them cali killers will clip youCatch you slipping up, my circle of boss niggas'll fix youAnd my Brooklyn New York shit ain’t an issue, ohCause it’s only this livin' proof that I give youHold up, hold upLet me back this shit up one timeGet these niggas this heavy promotion shitChilly cityY’all ain’t pulling them hammers upIt’s 718 562, catch a 187 38s park up your coupYeah, this cold shit, we hustlin' starsLocked up stoops, touch the law when they rollMove fast, cops gonn’ shoot, ohAnd that ain’t only that coop that cooper project shitBut erm, we got joints you hit a martian withMake you lean like they do in Dallas, Stojakovi?Fly your head like Canadians on some hockey shitNy long beach, the mob, yeahMy nigga dice told me just booked the flightI’m charged up, paid for D boy shit, my whole squads upChilly city, heavy promotion, get your arms upYou feel the fire when I light the flameThat 40 cal shine like I let the rifle aim[Julius Luciano]I’m a neighbor to my speech, I mean I live by my wordsMama raised me in the streets, baby crib by the curbStill sagging in baggy pants to hold my hammerCall it my hammer pantsWhen I blam the ratchet you bastards dancePut cheese on your head, no packers fanFrom Cali to Pakistan, I roll around with sick niggasAmbulanceLiving proof, ***** with your cali famNew York city been real, since it was called New AmsterdamI keep it candid manYou say you’re goin' h.a.m?Can it manNow you's a can of spamFaggot scram!I keep 2 women on the side, I’m in the middle like an ampersandFrom the city by the sea and ample sand (Long Beach)Yeah the shoe gang is typhoons, dig itOur music is so vivid I call it iTunesYeahY’all small, tiny, miniature, minorWe real big, real spit, authentic saliva[Andrew 'Dice' Dinero]Put out a APB homie my mind is lostHow could I think twice about shooting youWhen I'm minus thoughtsNo time for talkYo, I fire that steelI’m a honest boss so I fire at willYou just a poser nigga, you don’t pose a threatYou a actorYou should be on the set, on the set(Shoe Gang!)We gets it in, like no one canBlaze our armsOnce we raise our armsLike a show of handsYou want fame, I’ll give you the snubPut your face on the newsGive you some pov(?)You want your own line of clothes, I’ll send you some slubsPut your name on a shirt after 'in loving memory of'I still got chunks of the last crew that wanted beef in my teethI’m a beast, you can view it on my tweetsYour flow is choppy but fluid is my speechYou can call my spit drool, cause I do it in my sleepY’all ain’t ready[Demetrius Capone]From my finger to my shoe stringsNigga this is shoe gangRepping crip or blood, that’s why I’m spitting blue flameMy ratchet your *****, my dodger, fittedThey all 3 blue brainsCrawl the street in the new rangeNiggas know I’m keepin a weapon on my waistI draw with the first hand and the second hand a traceHand over hand that’s what I call crossfireY’all, all expire when I step into the placeIn the flesh like a heroin needleOr shake when I americanee youI speak fluid flu and malaria meas?I’m rarest disease youI’m a fallout, you barely the measlesTurn a pair of police into paraplegicsDerenger seeks youIn a wheel chair, the sheriffs the sequelDry snitching ain’t flyFry and fly, apparently equalDesert n eagle, long beach is resident evil, nigga[Kenny Siegel]Kenny’s in the forefrontY’all in the back like scoliosisGrindin, the dough that I’m folding is old as mosesStay highThe dope that I’m smoking is over potentIt’s bout as green as the Hulk is but even more strong than HoganI’m stand upBut I ain’t close to joking when toaster holtingI’m quick drawYou internet dial-up, slow at loadingI’ll let my chrome explode and hurt your lungsLike Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis!YeahI eat emcees, bring me more and see me gorgeI’m frozen fire, something you ain’t never seen beforeI told myself I’ma quit drinking but I fiend for moreI keep on *****ing with spirits, like a ouiji-boardYeah, yeah, yeahEyes low, look like I’m half-sleepLeaning so far look like I’m driving from the back seatI pack heat, blow my tool, you get your soul removedI put your body on my arms like I’m holding youY’all ain’t ready, y’all ain’t ready to hit the streetsY’all ain’t ready for the war, y’all ain’t ready for my teamY’all ain’t ready, y’all ain’t ready to mop upC.O.B heavy promotion, front get popped upY’all ain’t ready, y’all ain’t ready for east coast shitWest coast shit, botch coast the best coastY’all ain’t ready, y’all ain’t readyThis right here some real street shitLet’s keep it all rapY’all don’t want no beef shitY’all ain’t ready
