Correction Lyrics One Blood (West Coast Remix) by Kurupt

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Lyrics

Dre, I see gangbangers
(Ayo Game, what it do nephew
It's your crippin' cuz, Snoop DO-double-G
And Imma bless this one, one love for you one time
If you know mine)

They call me D-O-dub, wasn't really trippin', cuz
Twenty-one, twenty Crips and all of us is Crippin', cuz
We from a different street, all got that different heat
But when we move the Macs
When Game come, we on the same beat
So if you f**k with Blood, then you f**k with us
And we ain't bustin' duds, 'cause we bustin' slugs
Be sure to stay in touch and clеan your mess up
And if you from the West Coast, my n***a, W-W-W-W-Wеstside!

(Ridin')
Yeah, rollin' with two grips
Glock holdin' on the hip, rollin' with two clips
Got two tiny locos ready to take trips
Shake and make trips, high stakes to take grips (Grip)
But they know what's crackin', cuz, 'cause as we huddle (Ayy!)
They hold cards down, n***a, like spades and pinochle (n***a)
West Coast gangbang, riders erasin' 'em
Got funny n***as raisin' up and riders replacin' 'em, cuz

Draped in blue, notorious gangsta crew
R.I.P. for n***as who don't stay true
Deep down in the crevices (Woo!), see, them checks better win
Dwellin' in the land of the gangbang profession
I'm legendary, yes, yes, a West Coaster
Throwin' up two Cs with two guns in my holster (Woo!)
I'm from Long Beach City, a Crip next to Compton
Down with my n***a, Game, if you n***as want problems
From the streets to the suites, anywhere, we can meet
Del Amo to Compton, Slauson Swap Meet
Worldwide (Wide), get swept away by the tide
YGs and BGs, OGs, it's time to ride!

Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix (Remix!)

My father was a crip
He named his song young cuz
Used to be on Def 4
Of course I know one blood
Crooked I and Game moving in that g-ride
Ask big sea style I'll die for the east side
So what cuz like?
What that Blood Ike?
Call my necklace just this cause it's just ice
I'm the prince of Long Beach when I touch mics
I lived a thug life just like a young sike!

Who the riders shooting through the gutter lane?
Trued up in them Carolina blue Hurricanes (What up Blood?)
From the Westside, strivin' to dead 'em
Where them killers throw that third letter up
Like Raymond Washington and Tookie Williams
Blue jeans, blue strings, blowin' blueberry green
Cadillac on blue Ds and a blue tee
Money thick as blue cheese, chuckin' up the dub
What the West be without Snoop and Dub C and one blood?

The Bay Area, f**kers, we pop 'em
Open you up if you got a problem (Ahhhh!)
Up top, born in California
Clean your clock, open your can of tuna (Doot-doot-doot!)
Make a choice, it's either Hell or it's Heaven
Get your chest laid out with the FN-57 (Bo! Bo! Bo!)
This ain't nothin' to do with nobody
In the Yay, there ain't nothin' to do but catch bodies

Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix (Remix!)

Why sub, has this mask by the hundred dudes
One blood my ass sh*t I brought when I hundred do's
Roll with a hundred Crip, finding a way
With a navy blue red, and ain't down to my day
And the navy blue red still duckin' the north
Watch me get that b*t*h laid like the kid of the port
It's move on muhf**kers by the blood for real
Cause the beach cruisin' flow colds polo bend here

It's the P-I-R-U
You can R-I-P
If you ever f**k with the G-A-M-E
S-N-double-O-P and the D-A-Z
K-U-R-UP-T
G-M-A-L-O-N-E
Fourty ounce spillin', back to drinkin' henny
On that S-T Crooked I, D-E-S
Smokin' that neon green
Keep that seaweed stress

I'm from the West coast
Call it WC for sure
2Pac laid, guess who carry the torch
Tryna throw up the dub, and on me that love
California resurrected, n***a all it took was
(One blood)

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