Turn it up      Yo, when I roll you know the cats be out   So you cowards got no choice but to rat me out   I call in from the pen to try to see what that be 'bout   'Cuz I catch a fool slip and yo, his ass is out      Hud, stay on the low, pop two cops   Thug, against all odds, like Tupac   I'm caked up, dog-tired from Jacob   Platinum, reach for it then wake up      For top dollar yo, I squeeze my trigger   And Lord knows, I'll lead this nigga   'Cuz I'm down for whatever   Matter of fact, I'm down for the cheddar   Try to clown and get yo' ass layed down forever      Niggas hate to see a G come up   Young niggas that run up get gun up   That's the real, seen the nigga pass the steel   Even wink and yo' ass get killed, all out      This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   All weed smokers, Olde E sippers   All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up   This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   Whether blued out or flamed out   Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay      Light up the izzy-izzy ba-ba, ask yourself, why try?   Touch the untouchable brotha that's in front of you   Harlem U.S.A be the place that I come from   Twenty-ninth and Lenox be that place I get the guns from   Vacant lots be the route that we used to run from   Thirty-second precinct until Jackie caught the dum-dum      It's hot now, cops now, all out gotta eat   Close food shop down, send them across the street   My force overheat 'cuz the cause is cheap   Reminiscin' all my homies that I lost on the streets   Dos Bruce, LB and even Stevie D   Pour some liquor out and throw it up for a G   NRB, be the click they claim to be   So if worse come to worse, do the same for me      This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   All weed smokers, Olde E sippers   All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up   This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   Whether blued out or flamed out   Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay      Now, we drink Colt '45, tote 45's   Smoke 'til we high, loc til' we die   Got locked up in Crenshaw   Somebody said, "Foo, what you in for?"   Jail mental', named Wendel   Did 15, and got about 10 more   Oh, he was silent than braille   In '83 was the first with hydraulics      Caught his first bid dealin' with narcotics   And had Day tons and always kept 'em polished   You taught me about khakis and converse   And if a foo' try to move then you ball first, feel me?   But now I'm stackin' my grip   Back in the trick, come out a day early is a slap on the wrist   But one time never sleep on it   I went from Harlem to L.A. fool, so speak on it      This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   All weed smokers, Olde E sippers   All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up   This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   Whether blued out or flamed out   Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay      This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   All weed smokers, Olde E sippers   All dead homies, and O.G. nigga's, throw it up   This is for the know-knotters   Six-fo' riders, all them ones are low riders   Whether blued out or flamed out   Mask on, ridin' with them big things out, yay a yay