Artist: G'Fellas (Nino Brown & Slow Pain) f/ Don Cisco, Jay Tee
Album:  Crime Stories
Song:   Don't Slip
Typed by: Wammy Giveaway

[Don Cisco]
Yeah, uh
You know
Hun
Let's get this motherfucker started like this, ah

(Verse 1)
[Don Cisco]
Well, it's the most underrated, west coast anticipated
Finally made it, sittin' on top
And suckers hate it
To see us put it down for the streets
But we gon' keep it underground, we steady packin' heat
I'm a global savage, total package, who's the homey
On the twelves, none else but DJ Tony himself
Son Baby Beesh, ridin' right on the side of me
With player partner Jay Tee, now we N2Deep
See, I ride around town and floss
Put it down with a player named Frost
And we never take no loss
It's the cost that they pay
For fuckin' with them players from the Bay to L.A.
Now this is what they say

[Jay Tee]
You see, we all about the money, can't take that shit
We gots a gang of veteranos, tryin' to make that hit
We forty deep, if you countin' cousins, we the dirty dozens
On the caper, we full time money makers
Stayed in the game when the chips was low
To be a savage on the grizzind, is all I know (Uh)
So young player, what they hit for
No matter what you got, you gots to get more (You know)

Chorus: Don Cisco
Don't tempt me, homey, don't slip
If you disrespect the dozens you know
We gon' trip
Don't tempt me, homey, don't slip
When I'm ridin' with my cousins I empty the whole clip
Don't tempt me, homey, don't slip
If you disrespect the dozens you know
We gon' trip
Don't tempt me, homey, don't slip
When I'm ridin' with my cousins I empty the whole clip

[Verse 2: Don Cisco]
This ghetto life can't fade us, the streets is what, made us
Took the game from the hood, and shot it out to Las Vegas
Weekend retreats with high rollers, real G's
Stackin' chips, in casinos, Latino Gambinos like Tony G
Hittin' for G stacks at the crap table
These boss macks, always ready, willin' and able
Champagne and chicas, jewels with the oro shinin'
Leave a mark, like Zorro in the turf, when I'm grindin'
I do it My Way like Sinatra, now I got ya
Ask Biggie Smalls and 2Pac, Who Shot Ya
No need for a vest, we cross the coast like Costa Nostra
Send me the bull, shut your boca, homeboy
Es otra cosa
I'm comin' through with the mafioso smashin'
Little cannon, John Gotti, my main assassin
I put it down for the scrilla, for the realer
And ride for these playboys and die for my killers

Repeat Chorus

(Verse 3)
[Slow Pain]
Too many haters underestimate Chicanos
Mobbin' brown on my primos in the caza, motherfucker
Bow down, we chop it up, with the sly, sick and wicked
Aces fool, puto, tell me who got poo, like I do
At the age of twenty-two, sniffin' glue, fuck your crew
Love my crew, my crazy fools, actin' up, off the booze
The money stealers, pussy poppers, fuck the enemy
In the fang, organize hooker hoe, Slow Pain

[Nino Brown]
I got ya back, homey, these motherfuckers don't know how to act
When they see these Mexicans, mobbin' through in packs
With no (???) 'Llacs, we comin' deep up in they ass
And we killin' tracks, with an axe, you like broken glass
Never gonna last, sucker, can you feel the raps, sucker
Cisco Mack, Nino and Slow blastin'
Mashin', taxin', make a move and we blastin'
Who wanna fuck with these dirty dozen Gs, uh

Repeat Chorus Twice