South Central Madness Chords by South Central Cartel

Yo, this Havoc the mouthpiece from the FCC, only got three words to say, South Central Madness.
Who ridin' in a spit roll?
Yeah, the gang just mopped for life, the car drunk on a Rosa dot.
One time for the mind of a nigga, stroke a D.
Watch your back, I'm about to creep, it's not constant.
The South Central like a bitch, another D with a guy from Gangster Pitch.
If your gang is weak, your speech won't pump.
If something's wrong, get soft and try to pump.
Cause I'ma hit you in the face with it.
I got a five stick crew, can serve booze if you fuck with it.
You're the false, you spoke and choked, chose to broke when the smoke, smoke, smoke, your hair's low.
But I'ma break it down for those who know.
Be real when your gang's South Central.
Cause on the Central tip, you get pinched and whipped.
And if the pinch don't flip, you get Uzi clipped.
So we leveled in progress, become the 187.
If a sucker props the best, pay I script.
When ringleader, it's a whip shift.
And when I'm rippin' the mic, I'm with a full shift.
_ _ _ Yeah, yeah.
It's not constant, what's up punk?
Cause South Central, a crime wave of gays can make criminals.
Rippin' a stick to your dome, I'ma lettin' shit.
Top the nine and laugh when I blast your shit.
Cause your ass got tall.
By the mouth of your king, you were hung by the balls.
Had it, my feelings and pitch will let you bitch.
Smoke a choke when he pumps on the old bro.
Cause I provide the fun, get in some of side.
Fuckin' collide with my bro, look at us.
Yeah, I'm a swarm and a lure, I'ma drop a storm of death.
Teach your brain and wipe your ass, smell it.
In the Central, I roll my flows from home to danger zone.
Motherfucker, you can hear it flow.
If I low, I'ma smoke a no choke.
Drop the flow on the new shit, wipe your ass choke.
Just a little sublocal with that nigga.
Hide the dome, the cartel will penetrate.
Your damn pony a punk, who's a baddest?
You can't escape the South Central [F] madness.
Yo, this the hype of all hype.
I [Em] love trackin' 92 [F] for South Central.
Bitch, your hoes [G] rockin' gang.
I'm tryna, I'm tryna deal with the madness.
[N] Mexican gangsta flowing with the madness.
I drink 40's like a wino and let me get it.
They ain't give a fuck about a 5-0.
Cause I live on the edge like every nigga.
A 9-4, a 9-5, get fly with a trigger.
And man, I dance so I dance, I'm a robber.
Shit, there's no one paying so I guess that's why they slobber.
I scream like a cartel, bang.
Talk for yourself, but you won't wanna aim.
My AK is fully automatic.
If you wanna live, then don't get dramatic.
Cause this here is not a goddamn mafia.
Riding that punk, ain't the beat dropping, yo.
When we done, you're gonna be feeling blue.
Bleeding on the floor like a motherfucking fool.
Just because you thought you that crazy.
Try to rush hard, but your shit couldn't faze me.
Cause I'm more than a brother that's nino.
I'm the one Mexican that roam South Central.
[F] _ _ _
_ _ A _ _ _ _ city with so much potential.
Living in Central is strictly all men's role.
Coincidental.
Let me tell you what I'm into.
Gaming on the niggas you think they can step to.
A pretty, forget it, lady from the city.
Look who I just even got my attitude and shit.
And don't try to start to me quick.
Cause a 9mm in your mouth, I will stick.
And mate, you need me like a popsicle.
Here's a blast, [B] and I'll see your butt [F#] rich.
Yeah, exactly what I [N] figured.
A bitch made me hit a chair, pull a joker on a lady.
That's how you feeling, small.
Shorter than short, I'm the lady shot caller.
The boss, the 24 is dead to me.
Any motherfucker who think they can fake me.
F.E..G. is coming out playing. It's not a game, we're no ugliest friends. A lady that's pulling all the cards. I smoke it, leave your dad with your soul, hard. _ _ _ Yeah, yeah. Malibu beaches and everyday sunshine. Bullshit, my city for a one time rollin'. On a hunt, but they fake the toy. Any gangster nigga wearing khakis or corduroy. House fools, or a pair of Nike. And you talking about you wanna come and psych me. Fool, you better fool your ass and keep your health. Cause where I'm from, every nigga boy is a self. Hard as shit, with the rest of the pets. Who if you've never been here, then Channel 7 is the best. Me, I was gauged and watched after the riots. So I was brought here to see your head flyin'. And one time I know their name and their faces. Because I see them on their everyday faces. Niggas claim hard, just to reward for a bounty. Others try to groom LA for more talent. But it ain't even close to claim hard knocks. That's why they dying over those for buckshots. I can't take it, my mic somebody grabbed it. And keep going to the South [F] Central back. _ _ _ [Em] For all you [G] motherfuckers out there [Dm] that don't know how we living in South Central. [G] Fuck y [D]'all. _ _ _ _ [N] _ Westside, _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ hoo-rah, let me kick a pimp and slide. Weak niggas straight trip when I ride. Young Westward trippin' on the new flow. And yeah nigga, I still got my phone phone. In the front seat trying to fuck with me. It gets gray, fool this the MC. In the house, putting niggas heads out. Working them out, tripping them out with a doubt. It feels like a big deal when you're humping them out. Westwood [B] take a slip on the low. And yo because of this I get to fuck old folks. Young nigga don't sweat facts. [F] You and your ex, the motherfuckin' that take scraps. On your back with a goddamn slug in your head. Now you know the OG meaning of dead. And right after I proved a point. You kick back and smoke a fat joint. Agreed, pokey in dope. Then kick back and let a fine ho. Something I did, bitch, trick when I say so. Westside, killing up niggas. [G] _ _ _ [F] _ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _ [D] _ [N] _ _ _
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