Mc Eiht

Geah
In the muthafuckin house
For the 9 to the 6
Geah
To them bitch-ass niggas
We know your residential spot
The red dots on your dome, geah fool, Im ready to pull this
Trigger, nigga, straight bangin to the fullest
Original baby gangster on the block
159 reasons to bust you with the dirty glock
It looks like rain, so Im wettin
Your hood, of course, no remorse, better start jettin
No need for fuckin with the killer when Im goin down
Nigga please, no R.I.P.s for these Westside gees
I fires up the stick, grabs the nine and the clip
Which I stash by my fuckin dick
Definitely set-trippin, reminiscin
Bout my homies who died from the Park
From Casual to Short
Line up the homie as a teardrop falls
No time for back-trackin, cause hood work calls
Housecalls be given, where you livin, unforgiven
My mentalitys like the dead has risen
Hit your block with the glock cocked, Im ready to pull it
Not givin a damn, fool, catch the fuckin bullet
Your mama, your daddy, your old annie-granny
Oh no, Im loco, out the roof of the Caddy
Aw shit, fire spits out the hole of the Mac
I will send you on a trip where you wont be comin back
I pops a bitch-made nigga, and Im cheesin
96 is the killin season
Murder murder murder
Kill kill kill [x3]
Murder murder murder murder...
Geah, come on
Ima flee the muthafuckin scene with nobody alive
The mentalitys got me stuck in 85
Park boy straight bangin (right)
Peelin caps back to collect my stripes
From the 3rd to the Cly, then back to Taper
Niggas rollin through, they get nothin but the vapors
Bitch please, 159 gees
Fill your bucket, fuck it, full of holes like Swiss cheese
And aint no stoppin this b.g. from the C-P-T
Dippin around, fool, thats where I be
Niggas disrespect, makes me chuckle
Represent the hood on my fuckin belt buckle
Chalkin up points, smokin on joints, I roll through
With the mentality of fuckin you
Niggas on niggas, we need to quit
Say it aint no peace, just this piece on yo ass like flies on shit
So fool, dont test
I be playin connect the dot on your muthafuckin chest
For no apparent reason
96 is the killin season
Murder murder murder
Kill kill kill [x3]
Little Hawk
Boom Bam
Da Foe
And Chill
Murder murder murder
It dont stop
Murder murder murder
Till your ass gon drop
Murder murder murder
Geah
Come on
Time flies when doin drive-bys
Cause it only takes a sec
For Boom Bam to empty the Tec
Not givin a fuck if the clip is empty
If yall buckin, Im buckin, Im takin 2 with me
I hear sirens, tires screechin, bitches screamin
Niggas duckin, that muthafuckin nigga buckin
You cant compete, your whole street catch the blues
You gon pay some muthafuckin dues
And aint no stoppin till the clip is through
If Im gon die, your mark-ass gon definitely die too
Caught the slug in the back of the shoulder
Swear, like a chair, muthafucka, Ima fold ya
Niggas On The Run got my back, and thats cool
Like King Tee that gives me permission to act a fool
(Just clownin) No need tryin to run for protection
Catch that ass dippin when we slippin through the inner section
Niggas be transformin like trees, and
Another dead, its the killin season
Murder murder murder
It dont stop
Murder murder murder
Till your ass gon drop
Murder murder murder
It dont quit
Murder murder murder
Fuck the shit
Murder murder murder
It dont stop
Murder murder murder
Till your ass gon drop
Murder murder murder
But that aint all
Murder murder murder
Cause your ass gon fall
Geah
Compton is this bitch
Geah
You know where the fuck we from
Ugh
Nigga
Original CMW in the muthafuckin house
You know how we do it
Back for that ass for the 9 to the 6
MC Eiht
DJ Slip
Tha Chill
Lil Hawk & Bird
Da Foe
Bam
My nigga Tom
My nigga ????? is in the house
My nigga Mike T in the muthafuckin house
Everybody in this muthafucka
Geah
Yall know how we do it
For the 9 to the 6, nigga
And you better watch the fuck out
Cause we know your muthafuckin residential spots
Geah
Ugh
Murder murder murder
It dont stop
Murder murder murder
Cause your ass gon drop
Murder murder murder
Murder murder murder
It dont quit
Murder murder murder
Fuck the shit
[ Killin Season Lyrics ]