Guerilla Maab - Keep You Jammin lyrics

(feat. Cl'Che) [talking] Rock, what are you doin I thought you said you was gon have a track Ready for me by this afternoon, you know This here ain't me, you know dat I gotta have somethin to keep em jamming Uh huh, yeah, I'm kinda cold for this shit naw Its growing on me, lets try this right quick, iight Come on Rock, let me try it [Hook x2] I'ma keep it jamming the Southside, what the deal Where the boppas bop, where the tops drop And the choppers chop, candy paint out the shop I'ma keep it jamming the Southside, keep it real ?Prenorcamines?, sipping on codeine While the hoodrats scream, watching diamonds gleam [Cl'Che] Too much jealousy, and everybody wanna stop me From doing what I wanna do, been keeping it true With a chance to lose, my city credibility That I originated for Screw, when I say Southside It goes for everybody, sitting below the sun And whoever thinking this rap shit is done Nigga guess what, it just begun Tasters just dropping, choppers still chopping While they be chopping, your head off There they go, those who don't know about a damn thang Be the first ones, to run they mouth Hoodrats in the hood fantasizing, about my ice Fellas want me to drop a verse, but they can't pay the price I'd rather be the bitch, a nigga love to hate And I've been the bitch, a nigga love is fake Its a what in here, why you wanna (hate on me) Cause our rhyming is tight, the way my (diamonds gleam) Cl'Che keep you jumping, up out your seat When its time to run, you crank up the scene We on light green, so we can ball and parlay Stuck in Houston, do everyday So you can sit and feel what I mean, when I say Southside Everybody sing with me [Hook x2] [Z-Ro] Too many people, be trying to watch a nigga They setting up road blocks, and trying to stop a nigga But I'ma represent the Southside, for the hell of a swang I'm sticking and moving, to cold knock a nigga 3-57, Mack 11 pulling out twenty five Up in a 12 gauge pump, will keep the party alive But ain't no need for the tripping, I'm steady sipping on bar The marijuana be burning, everytime I flip in a car Dumping the ash, looking for the law at all times One deep in the Benz, you wanna plex I'll suppose to be jumping your ass, steady punking your ass A buffalo bayou, a square nigga dumping your ass Permits for the cash, I'ma get ready for the South To meg a killa beg, like a bitch Kinda sound like when Chris Tucker laugh Thought you was a man, but when the shit hit the fan You was running down Ridgevan, can you understand I can go hard on the god damn dank I can go hard on a god damn drank Sip a four, sip a eight, sip a pint straight Let it down, and scrape the plate You wanna meet the man, and never think you wanna damn Son of a bitches up in my face, there ain't no time to waste I bleed the block like everyday, and put it down in the studio With Cl'Che, I got too many problems on my mind And another serial number, on my nine So if you looking for Z-Ro, come to Ridgemont When I'm staying and rapping, I'm still on my grind And like Mafio, by the year two triple O I'ma come down, in a six double O With green flow, mats on the floe Candy paint on my do', its bout time for the hook and it go [Hook x2] [Cl'Che] I'ma keep you jamming, while the beat is slamming I'ma keep you moving, I'ma keep you grooving I'ma keep on climbing, make my money grinding Bumper kit reclining, diamonds blinding, shining Here I go, and everybody wanna approach me The way I'm flowing, and I what I claim as my click Down with the Guerilla Maab, and the Z-Ro On that flipping, sits some say its hard to spit But its easy to do, when I come knocking but natural to you Flip you out, how I made flip my style for a while But I'm representing the Southside, putting it down Wherever you go, and you jamming this spots Like Houston on lock, 1.97 on The Box Banging out your speakers, everytime you crank up Your choppers, and your heaters I'ma keep you, jamming the Southside I'ma make you, wanna ride on the Southside We'll teach you, how to make your diamonds blind At the same time, your trunk recline [Trae] Popping the trunk, dropping the top and I'm ready to ride Southside till I die, I gotta be keeping it crunk Put me on the microphone, and I be wrecking the beat And at the same time, I'ma be ready to make a seed And that Guerilla Maab ain't, fin to be playing with boys We leaving permanent scars, and steady wrecking the bars Leave me on the six team, I'm fin to be dominating Nobody wanna go to war, cause we be going too hard No more ghetto fame, bout the click that I claim Worldwide outta state, everybody be yelling my name Resurrection, all in your motherfucking face We get the crowd crunk, everytime we step in the place Keeping em jamming, keeping em bobbing, and keeping em rocking And I'm the type of nigga, that'd be blowing your speakers out Without a doubt, you better be coming correct Ready to wreck, cause this click, done gained they respect [Hook x2]