Little Blue Devil
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Lyrics
Yeah, hahahaha
Watts up
Now as I sit back, meditate and gaze at a full moon
You feel the mark of the beast when I enter the room
A known felon, steady bellin', chunkin' up C's
A nigga straight out of Watts, blue'd down with the Chuck T's
C-I-X is the name that I claim
Eastside, hard time, Franklin Square Crip gang
Neighborhood, understood and it's like that
Floss out my tooth and I'm mashin' with a rubber jack
And when I'm mobbin', I'm knowin' that you're guessin'
Do this nigga still got that Smith & Wesson?
But try your luck, cross my path and get stuck
See, they call me King Satan 'cause I gives a mad fuck
A blue devil on the prowl for blood
I don't bleed so I gots to feed, showin' 'em no love
Catchin' 'em creepin' for thinkin' I was sleepin'
Joke's on you, my nigga, now I'm Grim Reapin'
And if you wonder how I'm puttin' it down
Just come to Watts and ask for Bigg Cixx Pac, king of the underground
Creepin' in cahoots, got the nine in my holster
Blue devil on my shoulder and it turned me to a Locster
Saggin', blue raggin', doin' murders in my mask and
Roll through Slob hood, jump out so I can blast 'em
Now ask 'em, who's next to flex with the YLC?
Pullin' the triggers, gettin' bigger with my LBP
Testin' me, we gon' see a Slob R.I.P
Gone with the chrome for fuckin' with Young T.C
Would I, should I, kill for the hood?
Packin' pistols in my whips and I'm up to no good
Dumpin' the birds I could and like a page I just flip
Slappin' niggas with my pistol 'cause I'm real with this bullshit
Pullin' the trigger quick, that's on Crip I blast
Catchin' two to the chest as I rip yo' ass
It's the
Fire meter strapped, watch how fast I peel his cap
Niggas like you, I'm quick to do a nap
You're fuckin' with a Franklin straight out the jailhouse
That wouldn't hesitate to put a strap in a Slob mouth
Haven't seen a New Year on the out since '88
All I thought about was weights and hittin' the gates
Now I'm on the out, equipped with a mad grip
Wishin' that a Slob ass nigga would trip
So back the fuck up, when I roll I'm G'd up
Brace and cascade, twistin' the weed up
The nighttime's the right time to blow a muthafucka mind
Out of his skull with this muthafuckin' TEC-9
Teflon bullets comin' back to back
Puttin' Slobs in they back
Y'all call yourselves some killers but y'all ain't all that
You ran across the wrong Franklin Crip and got bucked
And now you gettin' carried by Cixx in your black tux
And I don't feel no love for your family, see
That's how it is when you're dealin' with a Watts L-O to the C
I roam through the depths of hell where the F dwell
And all these devils wanna throw a nigga in a cell
I got no time for no muthafuckin' time
I'd rather get paid and free my muthafuckin' nine
So when the pigs try to lock me up for some dirt
I'm throwin' in a fresh clip and puttin' in some mo' work
Now as I creep like a crocodile, nigga goin' buck wild
Death Struggle, it makes me a mental child
Keepin' my game tight, strapped with a automatic
You wanna be prepared to die 'cause I might panic
Nigga, 'cause I'm Crippin', so ain't no need for trippin'
I thought you knew my heart pump blue, don't get it twisted
You better notice a Loc when you see one
You might be big but you ain't bigger than my shotgun
Mobbin' through the F with weed on my breath
I got a bottle of Cisco, drinkin' it by my damn self
Little blue devil bellin' through the darkside
Nigga mobbin' too deep, me and my TEC-9
It ain't no jokin' around 'cause I ain't playin'
You better recognize before your hood gets sprayed again
Alright, cuz, damn
Alright, cuz, damn