[INTRO: Young Prod]

Every since we dropped down

We noticed radio didn't wanna swing with the locs

So like riders we swung with the gees

From Jesse Owens to Manchester Park

From Will Rodgers to Green Meadows Park

S.C.C. put it down for them 10% of real niggas

Keep droppin em, from the shoulders

What's up Treach?

West coast for life


[VERSE 1: Havikk the Rhime Son]

As I jumps up thinkin to myself it's another day

Find myself reminiscin on the 1970s

Had the swimming pool and at the park on deck

Even if you gangbanged it didn't matter what set

Doin flips, hittin dips, mobbin to the sto' later

Grabs the Bubble Yum, Jolly Ranchers, Now-Laters

Jesse Owens Park was the spot to hang

Retaliation from the shoulders is the name of the game

Didn't need to pack the fo', put the nine on your hipster

Bang and gettin high, slap-boxin, yeah, a g-ster

Manchester Park, I remember summer school lunches

Mobbin to the park off in bunches

Mom's chillin out with her sister and pops

Kaos in the front gettin sweated by cops

Shootin hoops at the [?], take the bus to the movies

With yo gees, damn I miss the 1970s


Time after time

I know we can change your mind

(Ain't nothin goin on but the bomb)

Kickin game with the S.C.C.

(Ain't nothin goin on but the bomb rap song)

I know we can break it down

(Ain't nothin goin on but the bomb)

It's the bomb, so won't you swing it with me

[VERSE 2: Prode'je]

It's one for the hoods all across the ghettos

From Will Rodgers Park all the way to Green Meadows

The Cartel's back, put the gats in the stash, gee

Let your sounds bounce as we mob through the '90s

Like we used to roll 40 deep in the '80s

30 O.G.'s and about 10 ladies

Chillin at the park with the loud conversation

Homies gettin blazed and the [?] givin [?]

Mr. Prod's from the S.C.

Hittin dips through your hood in my '86 Caddy

I used to roll a 64 on gold d's

But everywhere I went I had to have some O.G.'s

Leanin to the side in a gangster lean

Mad-doggin player-haters cause they quick to scheme

So i sold it got a Coupe De Ville, now I'm dippin forever

And yeah, the Cartel still together


[VERSE 3: Havikk the Rhime Son]

Summertime goes and comes, it's the '90s

6-4's drop and the tops chop, trunk got that bump

Gold d's cause the gees got it poppin

From S.C. to L.B. to Compton

Chip Motorola, 'yac and herb

It gets crucial drive-by's jumpin off daily

And your lady might be your lady for a minute

But once you slip, gee, your homeboy's all up in it

[ Prode'je ]

And I'ma keep movin through the six and the seven

Motivatin hoods cause it's all to the good

As we circle every hood like the solar system

Droppin dialect on the rhythm

The wisdom leavin pink panties marinatin

Escapin the 95 L Coupe skatin

Cause though I'm still g-ed I'm a player for life

It's '96 and Cartel still bringin the hits


Are you ready

for the time of your life

Everybody stand up

stand up

Are you ready

for the time of your life

stand up

stand up

Are you ready

for the time of your life

stand up, yeah

then stand up

Are you ready

(are you ready)

said are you ready

(are you ready)

are you ready

(are you ready)

for the ride of your life



I said are you ready

(are you ready)

ready for the time of your life

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