[Intro: Answer Phone]

Hello

You've reach area code 213 291 50 50

The Edge recording studio

Where in session

So leave us a message

We'll call you back

Thank you

[Tracy]

Yes this is tracy calling for kokane

I heard your new album its the shit

We love it, we love it

Umm where gonna give you a call back ok peace

[Man]

Yo kokane man this is skit man

When ya gonna get with me man

I got this ounce up here

C'mon G dont have me trippin like this man

Get with the nigga later

[Mike Smooth]

Yo koke' pick up the phone its mike smooth man

Yeah, i see how you floss on them bitches man

I'll meet you at the studio peace

[Kokane's sister]

Hey'yo nigga this is your sister

I heard dre and kurupt and them

Tryin' diss you on some shit

I know you ain't gone let them

Punk asses niggas try to diss you

I hope you get this message

Before the album come out nigga peace

[Intro- Cold 187'um]

Yeah what's up Kokane

"what's up player"(cold chillin'in this muthafucka)

Yeah we're just go on laid back in the studio, man on this groove

And talk about some muthafuckas, that we don't give a fuck about

(definetly don't give a fuck about, you know what I'm saying)

On some fly fly funky shit, (you know what I'm saying)

Some shit that niggas bit, "what's up partner ha ha ha-

I'm talkin to you Dre, don't bite my shit

Don't bite the funk that feeds you

Cause I sure the hell don't need ya

Ha ha what's up..

Yeah.. now while we're in the studio kickin' it off

(you know what I'm saying)- on the ill tip

You know, I wanna do some old school

You know, I wanna just kick some shit off

And show them muthafuckas I mean business -(you know what I'm saying)

So ah when the clock strikes to six

I'mma put them hoes in the mix (hi hi hi hi)

And I'mma do it like this for them ( ya know what I'm sayin')

[Cold 187'um]

Ahh yeah ahh

1-87 chillin' in my coup dippin'

One thing I can't stand is when fools get the set trippin'

Now I was down with the gang truce

Until I found out you was gettin' ganked by Dr. Suess

Now you can get Compton, Long Beach

South Central, Watts, Carson even Pomona, Yo

You can even run to Timbuktu

But I'mma creep through the fog bitch and I'mma smoke you

Now I'mma take you through you history book

Boo Ya, let's take a look

Yeah, when I first came to Ruthless I was livin' like hustler

But see you, you was livin' straight like a busta

I used to think you was a troop

'til I remembered you was in the muthafuckin' Wreckin Cru

And then I looked at an old album cover

It was you chillin' lookin' gay as a muthafucka

I could have took it any kind of way

But see six months later you were NWA

And now it's gangsta gangsta pimpsta pimpsta

But to me you was still wimpsta wimpsta

Yeah you dissed Eazy-E but I'm confused

Cause you're scared as fuck to diss Ice Cube

Yeah now you're all straight smilin'and trucin'

But remember "yo Dre, stick to producin'"

Now you say you ain't gettin' gangked no more

But I know who owns Death Row.. really doe

Yo I got a little piece of paper from someone

And not one line on it reads Andre Young

You try to diss my record deal, but I'm still real

I'm on a mission, and I'm going for the fuckin' kill

So next time your in the place

I'm hollering 1-8-7 with my Glock in your fuckin' face

Cause real niggas don't go out that quick

So it's cool that you bit my shit- bitch

Cause I'm a baller by far and plus a G

And I like my chronic twist with some VSOP

See broke niggas can't buy it cause it costs ends

Shut the fuck up, you're just Dre's broke friend

Snoop Dogg you better get your paper work right

Because if not you'll be all bark with no bite

Yo- see we go kinda back see

But see things got fucked up when your flunkie tried to diss me

You need to go and check your puppy, G

Because who the fuck is he, to jump up and diss me

Cause I'm a nigga with a gang of funk

And I'mma show the muthafucka to keep my name out his mouth

Yo- I never got smoked you muthafucking new jack

You fuckin' around with me you gonna end up on your back

Yo try to diss me to get respect

But you sounded like a muthafuckin Redman reject

I give props when props are due

And my props to you is muthafucka fuck you

You're just a flunkie for the D-R-E

You punk muthafucka, you wannabe G, (yeah)

And you know I always drop the shit proper

You can ask your homies or you can ask the doctor

But he don't get no props neither

I'mma say it on wax and I can say it when I see ya (fool)

Try to kick it like you got stamina

Whoop that ass like Luke did in Atlanta

Oops did you slip, did you trip, did you run

Did he have a gun, did you want some

No I don't think so (ah well)

Here's a bone you can choke

Get your ass with the mafia loc

Yeah fool, so what you wanna throw up

Cause you're broke as a muthafucka

Lookin tore up

But I'm the original 1-87 no one can do it better

So I'm out, and peace to my homie Snoop

Yo I hope you get yours before they do you- yeah

And that's realer then a juice of a duce

See some might not like it but yo it's the truth

[SweetTalk (aka Kokane)]

Boop boop be doo- well alright y'all

Yes lordy, ah just say, some say it's like the Peanuts Gang

I took your house off ya Snoopy- well a wrong

Say Dre ah, my name it's Sweet Talk

Now ah, do you belive in funk after death?

Cause I do, so watch this

[Kokane]

It's like dip-dip-a-la we got to make a sack

We can fix your funk when the shits on the flat

Pump pump you up, send you on your way

And I don't belive in celebratin' Dre day

It's like "Hear ye, hear ye! Come one, come all!"

Kokane is servin suckas at the players ball

If you come in mouse and heel

You will get blasted

A tisket, a tasket, we dump your body in the basket

It's a wonderful day in my muthafuckin neighborhood

A wonderful day in my goddamn neighborhood

Now rollin' tip-toe, incognito

Ichin' to serve a fool when my pump says so (Pump Pump)

Is another nigga with the devious plottin

And if you're fuckin with this nigga

You'll be spittin' out buck shots

So no pain no gain

Bakin soda free and they call me Kokane

Now I'mma fuck you up Kurupt

Cause I'mma bust trough your hood like the Schlitz Malt Liquor bull

Cause you gets no propers

Now your throwin' up the Pound

But I'm throwin' up the Black Mafia

Can't stop ya, what you wanna do?

Bring it on Snoop

And your whole fuckin' Puppy Pound crew

It's the nickel-slick nigga from Pomona

Not fake like lacers

But real like 'Tona's

Snoop Dogg you fuckin co-opt/car hop

Did most of the writing for Dre

And still you get your true props?

Now I see nigga's rich

But you was in the county washing Monster's shoes like a bitch

Now who's been sleepin' in my bed

Eatin' my funk, takin dope styles by the chunk's

Cause I'mma funky to the finish

Cause your funk got a gang of B-12 in it

[Outro (Kokane)]

Yeah in case you didn't know

It's Black Mafia Life for life- fool

Above The muthafuckin' Law

UBU- what you wanna do

Black Hole of Watts

To my homie over there that ain't shit

And to my funkinmuffin' Coconut

We clowning, yeah

[Outro]

Ahh, tell me

What plans do you have for a future of kokane

Well what we do, what we have

We plan to still funk'em all the way too infinity

Because ahh, are energy will never stop

And energy you can't stop energy or funk

Cuz it goes on too the next life

And will be funkin'em all the way into infinity

So there you have it

Well alright

So there you have it

Finally they found the flashlight to the funk

So brought to you by these message's of funk fly shit

Written an unbitten by the one great

You know his name

The fly-ist funk you ever heard

Most addictable

Kokane

Well alright