No Peace - South Central Cartel, Ice T, Powerlord Jel

Hanging on the back streets, chilling with the OG’s

S-C to the grave and it’s on for the O-Z

Young brothers want to run up, better put your guns up

Might just get your punk ass gunned up

Cartel ain’t tripping, guys never slipping

When all the B. G's start lifting

Where you from fool, it’s the same gang

Buck, buck from the Nines, everyday it’s the same thang

Raised up on the South Central blocks

No P-E-A-C-E from another Glock

As I move from the M-U-R-D-er Squad

Freeze up, G’s up, gangstas living hard

Young Prod don’t slow down the old fashioned hold down

Roadies and moonkies so why should I stop now

Right now I’m on top and don’t want to fall

No peace on my streets so that makes it hard

I keep my Glock-Glock cocked, as I bail down yo' block, buck

Seventeen shots, booya, 187 dropped death row fool on the solo

Khakis on yayo, where you from, Hav?

— South Central

Trizip the rizip cause I

G-slide as rewind, the westside you die

No peace as I clump, run punk, it’s a smoke

G’z rule the street, really though, I’m a loc

As a Crip to a Blood and a Blood to a Crip

Get your ass straight ripped by the squad if you set trip, fool

I’ve been weighed down for a long time

Long crime, long ends, long cash, you talking 'bout mine

Kid, you did a bid and you came home cock deep

You’re twenty-three baby boy, you’re talking bout OG

Huh, I’m thirty-four, I used Gats to score

Gag and tying hoe’s in the backs of jewelry stores

G-ride I’m talking 'bout two thugs you knew

One to work and one to ride on to the crew

But nowadays brothas want to flip the centric

It ain’t even Bloods, it’s straight Crips killing Crips

Lord Jel ain’t never gonna cease

'Cause I get my peace like shooting from the back seat

When I’m in my ride, I’m coming out to come and get you chumps

Powerlords packing 50 rounds for you little punks

When it’s on, you’ll hear my crew coming through

Won’t be in red, no a brother that’s wearing blue

'Cause I just flex and break necks

'Cause my sets all Mexican so don’t forget

They don’t want no peace for a brotha

The brothers in the streets don’t want no peace

They don’t want no peace for a brotha

The brothers in the streets don’t want no peace

Smoking up on the bong, I took my time trying not to be a felon

Trying to keep my cool like an O. G, but fools yelling

Oh what should I do

Cause it’s a buster in the crowd talking bad about my whole crew

I’m ready to do a walk-by at my own show

All these fools in the audience cause they don’t know

How to act and enjoy they 'self

So let them pigs come along and destroy the set

Snob down the block, I got to carry a Nine

Cause niggas that want no peace, they want to jack for mine

But I’m a G like this song

So I take a Gangster hit from the bong

And parlay

They don’t want no peace so I’ma pack a piece

Rolling way deep in the cut on the back streets

Mobbing with my homies, everybody’s strapped

Cause there’s always a fool trying peel ya cap

But in Oakland, they ain’t really tripping on the Blue or the Red

Just get caught slipping, catch two to the head

They don’t want peace, man they want funk

So let it jump, young punk, you can pop the trunk

And let freedom reign like it should be

Twenty years in the pen, it’s all good G

Now what I’m saying is you don’t have to fade your brother

Be a G and stop going out like it suckers

It’s that bitch Lichelle, B-O to the double Dollar Sign

They don’t want no peace at the G, only dollar minds

A 9 mm, then again I’ll be packing all sorts of clips

Roll up and shoot ya on your own front porch and trip

It’s unfortunate dig it the rules of survival

Look at the smoking for that sucker gets to be a rival

The psycho passing rocks, get my kill on, beef is still on

And what I think is that you picked the wrong ass chick for a Peace song

Get up outta Doge, if step into the Murder Squad for the '95

Bring it on face to face before I step out

I’m leaving a shout out to the organization

P-E-A-C-E, some kid done did slid down a razor blade

And landed in an alcohol river

Now that ass is a trouble, I sell a lie

With a trigger, cliques to get bitches a new day and new way

Some other mother- with the new say

The lesser rising brothers got no kind of thing

Forget running our hoods, our hoods are running fucking banks

It’s stolen tanks, part rolling think that thing that stank

Looking away, you think we ain’t

This is a killer Cali rally in the east coast connection

Invasion taking over this nation

This stolen country had better get real

Before our kids start practicing drive-bys on big wheels

The brothers in the street don’t want no (Peace)

They don’t want no peace for a brotha

The brothers in the street don’t want no (Peace)

They don’t want no peace

They don’t want no peace

They don’t want no peace, no peace, no peace…