Low Class Conspiracy Songtext
von Quasimoto
Low Class Conspiracy Songtext
Hello, cuz, what′s really gone on, little piggy been trying
Ayo, we headed to a party to go see what's happenin′
Smoking the Lah, in the car turn on some rappin'
Start to freestyle, we be up on our way
Finish up the blunt (ay, somebody pass me that spray)
Get on the freeway, yo its after dark
And guess who always pulls up right behind us (not again, some narcs)
Letting all kinds of speeding cars pass
Just so he could harass our black ass (nah, not again, what an ass)
The Police pulling us over for no reason (Get out the car)
Searching the car, like it's nigga hunting season
Year round, asking about where′s the pound (You got any weed? We know you got weapons)
Where′s the guns, are y'all niggas on the run? You got warrants?
Y′all niggas ready for some torment?
That's how they be cracking, it seems like they be actin′ (this ain't mine, sir)
Except it′s real life, like they rushing up your residence
Searching your crib, they can't find no evidence
Man, this stuff just makes me mad, man
That's what I′m sayin′, I ain't trippin′ no more
We 'bout to do somethin′
I'm tired of these pigs harassing us every day, man
The other day Mr. Buddha had this plan
To get grands off the man so our whole crew could expand
They all wanted me to drive the getaway (car)
I was like fuck it, ′cause I ain't got no dough anyway
They straight planned it right in my garage
Thinkin' large, then they gathered the entourage
My niggas straight hit the bank then broke the hell out
So much money you couldn′t even get that smell out
I got laced with 30 G′s to keep it freeze
Plus a nigga ratted so 5-0's on the breeze
Police talking about where′s the dead presidents
I said fuck y'all, niggas ain′t got no evidence
Ayo, we headed to a party to go see what's happenin′
Smoking the Lah, in the car turn on some rappin'
Start to freestyle, we be up on our way
Finish up the blunt (ay, somebody pass me that spray)
Get on the freeway, yo its after dark
And guess who always pulls up right behind us (not again, some narcs)
Letting all kinds of speeding cars pass
Just so he could harass our black ass (nah, not again, what an ass)
The Police pulling us over for no reason (Get out the car)
Searching the car, like it's nigga hunting season
Year round, asking about where′s the pound (You got any weed? We know you got weapons)
Where′s the guns, are y'all niggas on the run? You got warrants?
Y′all niggas ready for some torment?
That's how they be cracking, it seems like they be actin′ (this ain't mine, sir)
Except it′s real life, like they rushing up your residence
Searching your crib, they can't find no evidence
Man, this stuff just makes me mad, man
That's what I′m sayin′, I ain't trippin′ no more
We 'bout to do somethin′
I'm tired of these pigs harassing us every day, man
The other day Mr. Buddha had this plan
To get grands off the man so our whole crew could expand
They all wanted me to drive the getaway (car)
I was like fuck it, ′cause I ain't got no dough anyway
They straight planned it right in my garage
Thinkin' large, then they gathered the entourage
My niggas straight hit the bank then broke the hell out
So much money you couldn′t even get that smell out
I got laced with 30 G′s to keep it freeze
Plus a nigga ratted so 5-0's on the breeze
Police talking about where′s the dead presidents
I said fuck y'all, niggas ain′t got no evidence
Writer(s): Otis Jackson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
