C-BO - BOO YOW Lyrics

We like to murder in combat war on the streets .4 5 Glock 40's on sight to see Me and the homies run deep like a wild pack of wolves Attack like the Congo's when niggas talk bull Better step and get further before them hollow tips spit The Vulcan automatic with the Vulcan death grip Walk the strip and still tote see four in the tip and explode on Kryptonite chronic blunts when we dip Chorus: And I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now? I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! Take your whole motherfuckin crew out I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now? I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow! Take your whole motherfuckin crew out Now step into my zone, we can get it on Roll a coupe, not a chrome, fuck a sack, I wanna zone Stay blown on the strip, all switches away from dips Next to the mack and the lil' homey talkin shit He quick to blast on that ass, blood puddles in the grass I thought "Make sure he dead, come back and then we smash witta .4-5 automatic slug in his windpipe Ain't no love, for a thug livin one life We split wigs back like afro picks Flagged up, ain't your momma's style when we dip Young hogs creepin thru the fog Ready for combat, just me and my dogg Fuck y'all, other niggas all on my dick For the money and bitches ain't really down to do shit Another lyrical cap into your cranium We known to blow shit up like nuclear uranium Chorus I explode like a nuclear warhead, wit this lyrical gang that I slang like cocaine, makin the crowd bang As we kick up more dust than a pick-up Assaults, murders, and armoured truck stick-up Cos ain't too many niggas that can fuck with these Gz, pumpin and dumpin them ridahs on fo' D's Wit a fo'-fo', quote I give, "busters are jokes" and watch the concrete smack him in his face when he smokes Fo' sure, I'm known like the Boyz N' The Hood A Menace II Society knows it's tryin me, best to knock on some wood I bring it back to the good hooks, wish that they could fuck wit this lyrical microphone assassination hood spittin .45 hollow point chips at'cha chest The grinders penetrate a vest in the wild, wild West So break north, south or east, retreat and meet defeat It's West Coast, ready for combat, strapped wit heat Chorus