Lyrics:
the Ps when we Rollin
Blowin trees by the Ocean
Tell me what you Need uh
Indica Sativa
Cali Weed is what I'm smokin
No Seeds in the Ps when we Rollin
THC
Billie Jean?
Will the cycle always repeat? Promise I'll break it by any means
Usually be dolo don't wanna network no more
By myself up the score board,
exposed
Say she want fuck with a G girl I'll show you the ropes if you stick to the code
I go with weapons to sleep cos the tool by my bed keep the devil
g-code, never seen my dad cry
And I'ma bleed your block 'til the cash dry
You live in fuckin' Babylon and ask why
Your arms to short to box, god, that's
code bring katanas to your throat
My persona is that of a Don Dadda, so I gotta
slay sixty-four suckers and bounce like an Impala
from the junkyard,
jewels extra large like stretch I'll show you my strength
Fiends get their check on the first
Be gone by the second the third they
Come on stolen shit
feel like laambo
We Really ride with insanity
Hey
Always being watched by hoes
We really flex with normality
Hey
I got my code
I got your hoe
U wanna
need a stylist, I'm too fly for all that shit
I'm the streets so the code is what I live by
Sometimes I wish I could spread my wings and fly
I just
you want
Get ‘em and double the code
Sentences covered in gold
All you gotta do is tell me go, and then I’mma G-O
Yeah, sort of like De Janeiro, I’m Rio
me nana
I care about my comma, I got a code of honor
I smoke the bestest weed, shout out my plug and farmer
I speak that mira mira, that mira, oye
dawg, my dress code is golden, what?
Yeah, yeah
Hey yo, the team is official, son
We got some double L athletes
Right, it's the Horsemen
Ric,
me and animals
Rules to this shit
I made me a manual
A step by step booklet for you to get
Your game on check
Not just shit pushed back
Numero uno
with them O's
You know shorty been EBK
So I don't do shit by the code
And don't give a fuck who want smoke
I eat, sleep, and shit with my pole
Gucci Bag, Michael Kors, spent 5 bags on my -
Verse 2:
Man ah dont care 'bout your postal code or your gang affairs
Word to B.U.G, all you niggas could
folks
Ain't got shit to prove
Fuck the hood, tinted, ridin' low
Got too much to lose
You know niggas don't live by a code
Guess it's fuck the rules
Can't
dreary road
Faces of these demons explode
Let's take control, from my heart & soul
The G code has been embedded
The enemy gets beheaded
No medic needed,
ay, ay, ay, ay)
What you gon' do when them times get hard?
What you gon' do when them checks stop coming?
That's not really a option, G with
shit's gonna change
I grab the chrome from the shelf
Cause it ain't nothing like left
Your last step or should I say your last breath
G is past death
building with OG's to askin me
Do we know the code of the streets
Walkin the beat
In the hood where it's all good
A Tear For The Ghetto
They don't wanna be
Yeah, it feel good
Feel good to be alive and strapped
Afu-ra, Mann
Yeah, we man up, uh
Fight for the revolution
Uh, code red, nobody safe
(Kepadamu)
If you back that thing up
Yo I'm gon' hit it
Verse 1
Yo, I make jams
Sure clubs gon' blast
Make 'em freaks dance
Lose g-strings fast
Yes I love
Or Die, try to take this
Stay swift, you can follow if you tailgate (C'mon)
Reminiscin' when a nigga used to sell weight
Well laced, G.A. in
[Turk]
Can ya picture a lil nigga like me straight thug'n
Hotter than fire, hotter than somethin that's in tha oven
Tha G-Code I live by everyday
'em al off nigga break north
Fuck these bitch ass niggas cause they all soft
Fakin' moves over hoes
Switch they dress code and mode
And now they want
.jpg/237px-Juvenile(rapper).jpg "Juvenile")
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