Lyrics: Woodie. Life Stories, Vol. 1. Dirty Deeds.

[Verse 1: Shadow]

[Chorus: x2]
This pressure's got me stressing never confessin' my crimes
These secret dirty deedz feed these questions in my mind
In time will I feel the repercussions of my guilty sins
Does the Bible speak the truth now that my punishment begins?

[Verse 2: Lil Los]
Yoc what? Your Glock what? Yeah you better take a shot punk
Cause ain't no turning back when you flaunt your strap,
Leave your cap peeled when I dump chump
When the funk jumps, gotta be on my toes,
Ammunition dishing out in rows
Keep foes in check with effect when I rip their neck
When I let loose hoe
Deuce-0 block props got cops on our jocks,
But popping shots will not stop
Slap a scrap off the map when I tap his back when I blast a black chop
Aftershock liquefies my brain and mary jane invades my veins
To maintain and hang when I gang-bang,
Inflict pain when I sprinkle grains, cane drain
Coats my throat when I off choke smoke,
Approach the roach til it's all she wrote
Smoke dope and rap twist caps and try to cope with rats backstabbing folks
That's why I stay high off dosher, remain a Yoc town soldier
Exposure to shady times gots my mind anti-sober
Gotta stay blazed in theses crazed days,
Hazed by norte ways it's not a phase
Steady amazed on how things changed-rearranged but it ain't no thang
Still hang and claim with my real folks,
It's fucked up cause I gotta kill folks
Hit your block with a chop and peel throats,
Blast with a mask and let these skills show
Let me fell your repents when I let thirty do you dirty
Folks wanna battle us, gotta handle this, it's scandalous for Shirley
That girly got me numb for 781 redrum
Ain't no fun trying to shun my gun when the sights tight up on your lungs
Pump your chest with an SKS and bless your dome with a tre-eight chrome
Murder zone created, stated when the funk is on.

[Chorus: x2]
This pressure's got me stressing never confessin' my crimes
These secret dirty deedz feed these questions in my mind
In time will I feel the repercussions of my guilty sins
Does the Bible speak the truth now that my punishment begins?

[Verse 3: Woodie]
I'm strapped with a black snub tre-eight
Packed with a hundred and twenty-five plus grains
That extra load with a hollow
Swallow your last breath when it touch brains
These bloodstains of enemies are the sins of me livin' that Yoc life
But until I die it's a lie
That's why fifty got my gang in the spotlight
Breakin' 'em off in different fashions
Maybe I'll shank 'em, maybe I'll blast 'em
The punk ass five-o, rats and rivals
Kindle my homicidal passion I'm mashin'
For that everlastin' twentieth street I'm ridin'
Confidin' in myself, Lil' bird and L's
Everybody else testifyin', soon dyin'
Tryin' to keep my freedom
If I don't beat the pigs,
I'll live in a cell, no bail, doin' 25 with an "L"
I'd rather get murdered and go to hell...
I bail thru the cuts of the Yoc in a lark on rally's
Backstreet alleys allow me to shake the spot
And pursue my plots of gangbangin' in northern Cali
Co. Co. County's hella shady
Somebody's catchin' 3 strikes daily
I gotta maintain, let my nuts hang
Use my brain and make this lifestyle pay me
Fade me? I don't think so
Wipe your memory with a single
Shot from a tre-five-sev
Vibration make my fingers tingle... I speak
That Yoc-town lingo and mingle with northerners
Who've blown up the spot, got the Yoc hot
Kickin' up enormous dust
Discuss nothin' straight bustin' upon your click thought I wasn't
As pistol chambers rearranges guts this shit gets disgustin'
With all these homiez switchin' up I'm not quite sure who to trust
So I just follow my gut and let it be known
For the Norte side I bust.

[Chorus: x4]
This pressure's got me stressing never confessin' my crimes
These secret dirty deedz feed these questions in my mind
In time will I feel the repercussions of my guilty sins
Does the Bible speak the truth now that my punishment begins?