(Detroit, Detroit)
Yo, Hollywood has half-man be hollow to you
How could you have slipped through
The only difference is for you there'll be no resurrection
Yo, let's get back to the hardcore right now
Yo, Hollywood got a lot of kids twisted
But you about to play the commission
Stick up the forest misters then head up to chickens with 'em
Pretending you pitbull, when really your candy-ass is poodle
(Colors)
Like the Son of Man stood with a crown made of thorns
That's what's within us, cack and lack, clap, buck killers quicker
Stay in the house that's the sound of the gangs, Clef
The only gift y'all possess is workin' with the triple six's
Yes black, where's my jewels at?
Tell the Secret Service I won't be home tonight
Underground hip-hop yo
They take your car for a spin, it's cold outside so all you feel is the wind
That cemetery gear
(But that ain't right y'all)
Adrenaline's givin', when I riff with the fifth to your chin-in
I got my gun and nine from Hollywood, to your neck of the hood
(But that ain't right y'all)
Don't wear your colors here
This one's a gangsta tune, whassup Fosha?
Signal, signal, y'all need to chill with the driveby's
(Uptown)
I was in an ambulance tellin' my cousin, "Keep breathing"
I'm surprised, 'cause on all y'all records you was Al Capone
Talk about when y'all blow up y'all gonna visit the project floors
(Colors)
("I don't care, he got the wrong colors over here, no fear")
And if it's anything killers is fearing, I know my clip stacked for realer
There's no celly phone, so you can't phone home
If it's a little man in you then I better put the trick back
But the last time they saw y'all was 1984
Damn Paul, what's that huh? Let me get that, with the quick snatch
(Colors)
(California, California)
Y'all disguise yourself with bandannas and diamond necklaces
Your colors wrong, you must rock edible dons with that huh?
Oh lord, here come those criminals, Maleeg and Jerome
We wouldn't of hit you, hammers have already been
I got my gun and nine, killing's my appetite
Don't wear your colors here, that cemetery gear
Get out the Navigator, Godfather 3's in the DVD they hoppin'
Now you standin' in the form amongst the children of the corn
I'm a send this one out to all the refugee gangs around the world
The real is missing but the fraud is evident, ever so clear
But you got the nerd to come around here with pounds of fear
Don't wear your colors here, that cemetery gear
I got my gun and nine, killing's my appetite
(Colors)
While I was detecting the trick that's in you
Mosta y'all can't even go back to the hood where y'all grew up
You never knew bout how we play these innings
And come to find out that you never held a chrome
(Chicago, Chicago)
Tell the FBI that I won't be home tonight
(But that ain't right y'all)
Don't wear your colors here
Now y'all wonder, why they got all hoodies screamin' "Freeze"
Waves are spinning, I'm out the glaze I'm shing
Now you look shook like that Mobb Deep song
Don't wear your colors here, that cemetery gear
It's click-up, click-up, north cackus, commence to stick up
'Cause it's a traffic jam, they got you locked up in a intersection
Actin' like y'all drink alcohol when all y'all do is throw up
It was the Fourth of July I heard the cherry bomb bang
That cemetery gear
I got my gun and nine, killing's my appetite
And you escaped the draft and never bust a shot in Vietnam
By the time we figured out what happened
Don't wear your colors here, that cemetery gear
(True, true)
I got my gun and nine from Hollywood, to your neck of the hood
("Yo, who you know here, you got family over here?")
I got my gun and nine from Hollywood, to your neck of the hood
Jumpin' in and out of limos thinkin' it's them that's really gifted
Cocked and cleaned, yo, it was who?
He a rap artist
