Artist: C-bo
Album: Tales from the crypt
Song: 187 dance

Verse 1
[C-bo]
Top down
Sideways through the town
Suckas want fo’s
I hit the block
Second round
Let’s hoo ride
And buck these suckers down quick
Popping clips
And skip down these fools strip
Straight to they stoned
Breaking they ass off so proper
The young g’z
OG’z pulled up sitting on choppers
Cuz you know
I can’t be slipping in the nine fo’
So clip up your block
Cuz we be blocking with the fo fo’s
Forty five auto mag
Thirty round clip fully mack
P thirty mini fourteen
Desert eagle to combat gats
Guess I’m getting tired
Of getting crept on stepped on
Reload the high explosives
Of tires when the sweats on
So put up your dukes
Cuz I get deep in your shoot
For rolling a duce
Drop the top on the block
Popping a glock in hot persuit
It’s just another G
Filling your bad ass up to the rim
Popping the clip the mack ten
Hop out the drop and crack that grin
Cuz like eight
I’m in it to win it
Plus I’m paper G
So make way
As I jam the mack to your front teeth
Cuz when your playing with mines
Your playing with your life
So don’t be stubling your way
Be fully strapped at your bed side
Chitty chitty bang bang
Nuthing but that garden gang
Hoo riding to sell m* records
Will get your face rearranged
Cuz on my block 24/7
Fools be poppin their glocks
Hitting the strip
Popping the clip
Putting in work
Letting it rip
As they keep falling
Today’s spending G’z be balling
No time for stalling
Unload thirty round clips shots of caller
Cuz in this game
When your living in strange aim for the brain
It’s all for one and one for all
Cuz in the game
Only one gangs
Proceed with caution
Cuz like hoes suckas I’ll be tossing
Deed bodys of bitches
One to the head
Now there digging ditches
Think before you step
To the phycopathic lunatic
Have your gat in your hand
And ready for the 187 dance

Chorus
So listen up for the cop
So listen up for the cop

Verse 2
I woke in the morning
With a nine to my head
Thinking that I’m dead
So to see the taz and the dam feds
I knew it was over
Bo loc had got stuck in the game
Po pos got me face down on the bed
By me big bag of caine
And I’m thinking in my head
I just left Ya
I’m on my way to the penitentiary
For a yellow case
Dam I’m struck
Like the hoe stroll
That’s guarding the safe
Cuz I’ll be counting down 200 years
Every three hundred sixty five days
In the game when you stuck
You stuck
Up the river with Not so good
When sucker be getting their assed up
It’s off the tear
Give up the but
And I believe there’s a million ways to die
Cuz if you black
Believe you getting lit
Then you believe in getting fried
That’s from the from board
Officers town’s surrounded our boys
Got crack in my pocket
1700 caine nine got me noid
But I play calm
Bo loc got the G composer
Last night sold for ten
Hold up the twenty gauge
Still got the doja
And I’m thinking
It’s just a dank game nightmare
Shot guns and glocks
So I can see the siren nights glare
Then out the door
On my face
Hands cuffed
Trying to hold me back
And they still trying do me like a slave
Can’t fight back
Cuz I’m shackled
From my wrist to my ankles
And now these pigs
Wanna wrestle
They drugged be down to the county
Took three g’z out my pocket
And beat me down to the ground
Gee the stuff got hectic
Getting triple teamed
By three punk white detectives
I’m cauffing up hood
Holding my ribs
For every hit
I’m thinking about killing
All their kids
One kicked and missed
Slipped in my hood
I made a G move
So m*en head but
Went for his holster
Intend to get my blast on
I rather be dead
Than getting taped up
And stomped on
187 dance punk suckas
Try to take your boy
Out the game like a busta
Now they know
What its like getting with a psycho
With the garden blocks it all about survival

Chorus