"One Blood (Remix)" lyrics

[Jim Jones (Junior Reid) {The Game}:]
{Dre, I see more dead people}
(Blood) Uh-huh, Jones
(Blood hunt) Dipset, Byrdgang, bitch!
Ha, you know what it is
When you see me two twelving you, homie
That's right
You fuck niggas keep triple nining
Eastside
Have some integrity, bitch
'Fore it get tech-mangy out here, smell me?
Balling!
(One blood, one blood, one blood, one blood, one blood)

[Jim Jones:]
Peace Blood, peace Almighty (Peace Blood!)
We all thugs and we run the streets nightly (Eastside!)
And get my lawyer. Why? 'Cause I ain't copping out (Nope!)
And I fuck with B-boys that bring them choppers out
One shot of that'll have the boys bring the coppers out
And we're balling, foreign toys what we hopping out (Flossing!)
My fair Eastside, where we ride
And we all fly high in the Lear G5s (Balling!)
So twist your fingers up and bang, motherfucker, bang! (Nine-Trey!)
Get your money up, this 'caine is what we fucking slang (Gotta hustle!)
And Nine-Trey is what I fucking claim (Ugh!)
It's Dipset Capo, the don of the Byrdgang (Eastside!)

[Snoop Dogg:]
They call me "D-O-dub". Wasn't really tripping, cuz
Twenty-one, twenty Crips and all of us is Cripping, cuz
We from a different street, all got that different heat
But when we move the Macs
When Game come, we on the same beat
So if you fuck with Blood, then you fuck with us
And we ain't busting duds, 'cause we're busting slugs
Be sure to stay in touch and clean your mess up
And if you from the West Coast, my nigga, W-W-W-W-West up!

[Nas:]
Game got at me about the remix, it's a honor, my nigga
I made rap one blood, Nasir signing with Jigga
I got rappers getting mad at me
I got these new jack rappers trying to clap at me
I got these corny wannabe diss song kings on the radio
Talk about how they're gon' spray and take me away
But I'm the true living legend, I'm not to be questioned
Have your whole hood holler shit about my progression

[T.I.:]
Yeah!
You knowing my attitude shitty (OK) only a buck fifty
So I keep the Smittys with me—shit, how many getting it?
Hey, what you scared? I'm prepared in the mall and all
With two-twos, you can call me "Quick Draw McGraw" (ha-ha!)
You try me, I'ma cut that fool, better call the law
I start spraying, make fuck niggas fall and crawl (Bow! Bow!)
I press play like Puff, no pause at all
Chopping holes in all the walls, that's all they saw, hey!

[The Game:]
Hip-hop ain't dead, it just took a couple shots
I bring it back to life, give it a couple shocks
The king coming, no, I'm not Jay-Z
Too many niggas hate me, but they're scared to face me
This ain't a movie, dawg (Nope!) not Waist Deep
I'm not a actor but I'll show your bitch big meat
She giving one blood, one love, on dubs
A hundred forty thousand the first week?
Ugh

Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix (Remix)

[Fat Joe:]
All these niggas wanna front trill with them stiff faces
'Til them niggas lying still up in stiff cases
With the Styrofoam and embalming fluid
I been gone too long, and I'm dying to lose it
Somebody go and get this nigga a pine box
And I ain't just talking 'bout a measly nine shots
Yeah I'm chopper-happy and my wrist loose
Call me "Goldie". I'll smack a bitch too

[Lil Wayne:]
504 gangster, New Orleans soldier
Banging under water, fuck around and soak ya
Louisiana gunner, I'm 'bout my holster
And if you getting greasy, I'm an ulcer
I'm bicking back, being bool, on the Eastside
Of New Orleans where the Bloods at the B-hive
Ain't nothing sweet unless it's Presidential
'Cause that is where I sleep, now give me my key

[N.O.R.E.:]
New York, get the blood money (Dirty cash!), still sweet
We the Black Wall Street by the swap meet with heat
Def Jam, they're gon' flop him
And Reggaeton ain't hot in the building no more
It's OK! I get it popping
Back to the forest trees for deep, these little mes
Who took believers a opportunity to breathe
And you ain't gotta go overseas to see Iraq shit
You can come to LeFrak, Queens and get jacked quick

[Jadakiss (Styles P):]
One blood, we used to the spilling
(Came from the hood so we used to the killing)
Used to the black males (making crack sales in the building)
(How else you get the Benz) with the suede on the ceiling?
(Blood in), Blood out, (me and homie) back-to-back
(Boatload of work) and we about to pitch a shut out
I'm New York's king, (I'm New York's hardest nigga)
Anything in between's a (motherfucking target, nigga)
D-B-(L)-O-C-K, (he spray)
The hawk'll find a nice home (right where your cheeks stay)
We got a mean team, (hip-hop's dream team)
Them boys is only in the projects on (green screen)
Yeah, no security, (I'll put you on the respirator)
I'm the bomb; (I'm the motherfucking detonator)
One (dutch), one (bud), one (burner), one (slug)
Want a couple casualties, but we'll settle for just
One blood!

[Fabolous:]
(What it look like?) All I say at most
Shooters waiting on the word, "Just say it, Los!"
I let these niggas live (Yes!), I told 'em pull the plug
Have them goons pulling gloves, leave the room full of slugs (Yes!)
Catch me trafficking on maroon-colored dubs (Yes!)
Couple Africans with balloons full of drugs (Yes!)
If they like me, tell 'em, "Line up,"
While I sit behind ten and point 'em out like a line-up

[Juelz Santana:]
Mic check: one, two, one, two (Check!)
I'm strapped, you're strapped, let's play two-on-two (Let's go!)
You're eyeing us in the iron bus (Boom!)
Leak you, two liters of red juice: Hawaiian Punch (Ha!)
So what you boys gon' do to me? (What?)
I'm born street, your life's sweet: MTV's Laguna Beach (Damn!)
Mama told me not to play with fire
But she never told me I would grow to be a lighter

[Rick Ross:]
One love to the gangs (Yeah), but I'm in the things
Save the colors for the cars, see, we kill for the fame (Ross!)
The boss made it, yeah, we floss flagrant
Shame how I lost your life savings up in Las Vegas (Ross!)
I'm a heavy better, I'm a heavy seller (Tell 'em)
Keep white in the office, call it "Jerry Heller"
Letting off a hundred rounds (Rounds), let the barrel pick (Pick)
And we gon' sit here and wait for the Darryl case

[Twista:]
Chi got Lords and Gangsters, show me where them niggas at
Chi got Two Sixes and Kings, show me where them killers at
Chi got them ballers and hustlers, show me where them figures at
Game, where them triggers at? Aim at them fitted caps
He got the clips, I got the scope, let's get them choppers, nigga!
He got the kush, I got the dope, let's get it popping, nigga!
Hurt him in that cherry six-four, shit, ain't no stopping, nigga
Hit him in the head and the body with a bullet
When I put him in the cemetery then I gotta holler out

[The Game:]
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix (Remix)

[Daz Dillinger:]
What up, Cuz?

[Kurupt:]
Yeah, rolling with two grips
Glock holding on the hip, rolling with two clips
Got two tiny locos ready to take trips
Shake and make trips, high stakes to take grips (Grip)
But they know what's cracking, cuz, 'cause as we huddle (Ay!)
They hold cards down, nigga, like spades and pinochle (Nigga)
West Coast gang-bang, riders erasing 'em
Got funny niggas raising up and riders replacing 'em, cuz

[Daz Dillinger:]
Draped in blue, notorious gangster crew
R.I.P. for niggas who don't stay true
Deep down in the crevices (Woo!), see, them checks better win
Dwelling in the land of the gang-bang profession
I'm legendary, yes, yes, a West Coaster
Throwing up two Cs with two guns in my holster (Woo!)
I'm from Long Beach City, a Crip next to Compton
Down with my nigga, Game, if you niggas want problems
From the streets to the suites, anywhere, we can meet
Del Amo to Compton, Slauson Swap Meet
Worldwide (Wide), get swept away by the tide
YGs and BGs, OGs, it's time to ride!

[WC:]
Who the riders shooting through the gutter lane?
Trued up in them Carolina blue Hurricanes (What up Blood?)
From the Westside, striving to dead 'em
Where them killers throw that third letter up
Like Raymond Washington and Tookie Williams
Blue jeans, blue strings, blowing blueberry green
Cadillac on blue Ds and a blue tee
Money thick as blue cheese, chucking up the dub
What the West be without Snoop and Dub C and one blood?

[E-40:]
The Bay Area, fuckers, we pop 'em
Open you up if you got a problem (Ah!)
Up top, born in California
Clean your clock, open your can of tuna (Doot-doot-doot!)
Make a choice, it's either Hell or it's Heaven
Get your chest laid out with the FN-57 (Bo! Bo! Bo!)
This ain't nothing to do with nobody
In the Yay, there ain't nothing to do but catch bodies

[The Game:]
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix (Remix)

[Bun B:]
I'm coming straight up outta P-A-T like Compton in all black
But when we say "What it do?", they never say, "Holler back!"
Bun Beeda, I'm OG, like '95 Air Max
Neon green outta Flight Club off of Fairfax
Ask the Hundreds, it's doable, I done done it
At the summit of rap, and I'm watching you haters plummet
Run to it or run from it, to Bun, it don't differ
Wipe the streets with ya like you a Swiffer as a gift
One blood

[Chamillionaire:]
I'm the realest youngster that's breathing
And I don't gotta give a reason
Chamillionaire a millionaire, y'all competing to be competing
My purpose is to get the cheese
And that's a purpose that you're defeating
So shut your mouth, have a seat and be quiet 'til I'm finished eating
My label tells me I'm greedy, hogging all the room on your TV
Like Eric, they think it's Eazy but it isn't easy, believe me
Need to make a room in B.E.Television if you wanna be me
Game said he made room for Jeezy, I had to make room for me, G

[Slim Thug:]
It's one blood if you Blood or Cuz
From that number one Thug, it's still one love
I rep my blue boy team, but I do it for green
I do it for my Folks, Vice Lords and Kings
All the trappers, future rappers, standing out on the blocks
Tryna get up out the hood, man, and stack up a knot
Put your sets in the air, scream, "Fuck the cops!" (Word, fuck 'em)
We gon' rep for the hood, man, like it or not (Thugger!)

[Young Dro:]
My feed mashable, murders are catastrophical (OK)
Cars is improbable, I'm overcoming obstacles (OK)
Trapping, I made it logical (OK), my topic is impossible (OK)
I got a partner named "Shoe Strang" 'cause shorty real crossable
Shark meat to Pappadeaux, cars be tropical (Yeah, yeah)
All guns choppable (Yeah), all blocks are mobbable (OK)
I'm unstoppable, my Calico is toxable
Lyrically diabolical, kushing is now cigarable (What it is)

[Malice (Pusha T):]
Redrum, redrum, (such power in the tongue)
Never in the wildest, (wasn't talking to them)
Style on niggas (but feel it to the numb)
Japanese thread, (brought flavor to these bums)
Consider me the savior, (look what the Lord gave ya)
My celebrated presence (like the return of Rayful)
Frolic in the snow so playful
(And reviving the track) like we flowing through jumper cables
What duo you know
Get XXL kudos (while copping off Julio?)
(Yeah, classic shit), we mastered this
(Left for dead), I'm back, (I'm Lazarus)

[The Game:]
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix, remix
Remix (Remix)

[Ja Rule:]
Nigga, one Crip, one Blood, L.A., New York
The Game, the Rule, one love, guns up
Hands down, can't touch the flow, it's a bit much
The style, wanna keep up? I'd advise you to speed up
With money moving like coke these days gotta re-up
G up, cop some heaters and dare a nigga to act up
You see us in dual-seaters and throw it up
It's all hood, niggas, rep your sets if you Cuz or (Blood!)
Niggas, we all bleed!
These niggas can't breathe!
Only because the guns are drawn and aimed to part
Niggas that got bullets with names on them
Want 'em? Come get 'em! Niggas, y'all know where to get at me
Look at me, now pass me, maybe you can be half me
You bastards, I'm laughing, bullets sticking in family
Who sadly gets torn between one Crip and one (Blood!)

[Ja Rule:]
Y'all niggas know me, ha-ha, yeah!