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loon-e-toon & dj mike tee - inglewoodz finast lyrics
[loon-e-toon]
boo yow, time to put the ‘wood on the map
with the raps that i spit from the i-n-g strip
comin’ up fat as i did in my stack
stayin’ down with the ‘wood cause the ‘wood gots my back
n-ggas overlook my city
claimin’ hoods they ain’t even from, now ain’t that a pity?
i don’t give a f-ck, this is i-n-g
for l-i-f-e and i’m down with the mike tee
who could this be with a .357
the g loon-e-toon representin’ 111
fools thought i fell off back in 1992
when i used to hang and chill with my crew, drinkin’ brew
now it’s 93, yo a whole different ball game
cut off the loose strings, now it’s on mayne
it really ain’t no thang but a chicken wing
when it comes to dealin’ with a lame
yo i’ll reconstruct his brain
down as dirt, came up tighter than your hoes mini skirt
jerk, you get hurt
nine millimeter to the dome, you’re in the wrong zone
i’ma take your punk -ss home
gaffle, ?caffle? cops wanna shackle, tackle
gaffle, i play ’em like ?raffle?
everything i bust is a plus not a minus
straight from the loon, really though, inglewoodz finast
[loon-e-toon]
here comes the verse two, fully vocal slang
?cuchi coo? when it comes to game i got boom goo
you never thought you’d see the i-n-g on the m-a-p
but i gots to give props to the c-p-t
front and back, side to side’s how the crew rides
down the strip when it’s time for the hoo ride
place your bets on this lyrical threat
you say that n-ggas on deck, fool you ain’t seen nothin’ yet
i swing a lyric like a louisville slugger
don’t let the good looks fool ya cause i just might mug ya
fi fih fo runnin’ up hot it’s the shots of a .357, check it
act up, back up, ?haven’t sold a? crack up
this inglewood and we’ll straight rat pack ya
i stand tall, harder than the berlin wall
come one, come all, if you wanna take the fall
inglewood this, inglewood that yo
inglewood got these cowards all runnin’ in packs
lettin’ my sh-lls off, and n-ggas who thought i fell off
now i’m in your system and it’s all hail the boss
the one called the l-double o-n
disrespect the loon, you’ll be pickin’ up a broken chin
make way and bow down for your royal highness
loon-e-toon straight up d-gg-n’ it, inglewoodz finast
peep it out…
[loon-e-toon]
one for the ounce, two for the key
can i hear it one time for the ‘wood? (oh wee)
dumpin’ on these fools with a clip full of i-n-g slugs
what up to my n-gga mugs?
my dogs all know me as loon
a chief with a mind all sicker than a case of the flu
partay, ?lips? mouth, you
suck, peep out the limp when i strut
i breaks ’em off like a kit kat
step your -ss back or get smoked like a blunt, jack
props goes out to my dogs from the ‘wood
cause my dogs from the ‘wood give the loon-e-toon his props
watch the flex of a lyrical g*nius
you ask “can i really swing this?” i say h-ll yes
another flow been thrown
straight to the dome, yo mike take it home
-scratch-
yeah, now make it smooth…
like that
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