Proper Dos — Caught up in the Mix lyrics

Lyrics

Once again, I’m Caught Up In The Mix
As if I didn’t have enough problems with the tricks
Doin' shows, makin' a grip
But for every fan, there’s two foos who talk shit
Sayin' how we ain’t like that
But they run like bitches when we bust out the bat
And start to chase that ass (that ass)
I’ve never seen a vato run so fast
The Heartbreaker, hit maker, Frank V is back
Wanna find me foo?
The West side’s where I’m at
Kickin' back, gettin' lit, not lit up
I’m thinkin' back on the days when my name got hit up
In and out of jail with bad luck
A crazy little loco that didn’t give a mad fuck
Which way the wind blew
But if we caught you slippin', we were all up in you
Then we made a record, you thought I lost my groove
I’m still down to get a 'G' ride and make that move
Get off the car and let the gat seen
Should’ve been down with my team
Ernie G, Why don’t you let the beat break?
You should’ve been down with my team
Ernie G, Why don’t you let the beat break?
You should’ve been down with my team
I’ll pack parties like a thrifty store
Rhymes more dope than a '54
If you’re a whore, you’ll say, «Do me, do me»
And if i don’t baby doll, you can sue me
Pull me off stage and I’ll take it in strive
You can run but you just can’t hide
From the side that’s wicked, I kick tough
You think you got balls, I gots to call that bluff
With the bang boogie, up jump the boogie
Coming at that ass real fast like a lookie
Now you’re fucking ducking from the red beam
You should’ve been down with my team
If you ain’t down with Frank V, you getcha ass stomped on by the homeboys
If you ain’t down with Ernie G, you getcha ass stomped on by the homeboys
If you ain’t down with my town, you getcha ass stomped on by the homeboys
If you ain’t down with the brown, you getcha ass stomped on by the homeboys
Tales From The West side, straight from the West
Chavala got a bala in his muthafuckin' chest
Should’ve wore a vest cuz now I’m on the prowl
3 strikes you’re out but the 3rd was foul
Cuz it got dropped to a misdemeanor, he called me a beaner
I lost my head and the foo
It sold like a string
He should’ve been down with my team
But instead he decided to go the other route
And like a boyscout, the foo went out
I made him a wish it was just all just dream
You should’ve been down with my muthafuckin' team