Bobble Heads (feat. Black C)

Call me a psycho cus I just might go
 Shoot up ya block cus you're walkin' on a tight-rope
 Plus I'm off that nitro, yea that's that loud pack
 We don't smoke bammer so its best that you fall back
 San Francisco ball cat, you're fuckin with a Giant
 Ya niggas say ya real but the real is ya lyin
 (???) is what I don't do, real is what I live by
 Fuck whatcha goin' through if you're tryna (tempt?) mine
 Im tryna get mine ballin fuck getting by
 You suckas hatin' cus you fallin' like a zipline
 While I sip wine with a thick bitch with thick thighs
 Small waist pretty face, tryna get high
 She said she like real niggas, no farce
 But you're bitchmade actin worse than these broads
 Goin' through they menstral, all up in ya mental
 Just like a bitch ya keep dick up in ya dental
 Damn
 It's the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
 All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
 Money, gone, lookin all old
 Look at my poker face, I'll never fold
 Cock, reload, sellout shows
 Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
 Don't tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
 Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
 You can hip, hop on the muthafuckin' jock
 Im an RBL nigga getting money 'round the clock
 And these bitches don't stop when it comes to this black nigga
 In the Bay, I'm a legendary rap figure
 Plus a cap pealer, homie thats a fat nigga
 You're not loyal to the soil you's a rat nigga
 And I'm a real one, the last of a dying breed
 Im off kush muhfuckah you smoke bammer weed
 I fuck with top notch bitches in that Prada wear
 You fuck with low budget bitches with them bobble heads
 Yea, you niggas strictly sickly
 For real, you niggas can't get with me
 And you can believe it or not like Ripleys
 Ya boy been an underground king like Pimp C
 Or like Mac Dre, or like Mr. C
 I go hard on a bitch, no sympathy
 It's the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
 All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
 Money, gone, lookin all old
 Look at my poker face, I'll never fold
 Cock, reload, sellout shows
 Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
 Don't tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
 Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
 You say oh god cus im givin' you hell
 Leather jacket, adidas with them shells
 You can miss me like a stray bullet
 Gary Coleman on ya ass with a new Qillis
 Sheeit, God-Khan but I'm still a capo
 I let the weed hit me while Jimi Hendrix sang Sand Castles
 I dip through the big pineapple
 And if you see me real quick its something like an eye sample
 It's the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
 All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
 Money, gone, lookin all old
 Look at my poker face, I'll never fold
 Cock, reload, sellout shows
 Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
 Don't tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
 Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail