Throw Back Muzic ’86 Kurupt

[Intro]
Yeah, Kurupt Young Gotti, Rider Redemption. Hey Mark, let's take them back in the days, to the real G shit, let's make it back!

[Chorus]
'86 golf pads, cocoa sacks, single sacks, nickel sacks, rumble packs, switching back, gunshot!
Throw back music, that throw back music!
Gangster roll [?], R eight sevens, two elevens, one eight sevens, five point o mustang
Throw back music, that throw back music!

[Verse 1]
Yeah, back in the day, you can remember
Young dumb and full of cum
Horseman, full shades, John Mere [?] bong
Used to live life with no fear
Fresh faced niggers getting thrown off the fence
[?] trucks motherfucker! Ever get jacked with a truck, motherfucker?
Crenshaw, Sunday nights was on deck
[?] the homies had curls and combs
The homies used to meet up on Mount Vern
D's [?] push that Y
Riders die, homicide
Triple and double, with the hood to get under
It was all about fellas, banging with straight
And then came K's, and then spray paints
And when K spread, everything stopped!
This was after the 9, and before the Glock
Girls had [?] braids so, so thick
You know we used to flip
Suzuki side kicks
Crack hit the hood, watch us work this game
S curls, K Swiss, Turkish chains
You had to pick a side to ride, rider
Dark blue khakis, black, green or flamed
Purple or dark brown, I tell you the reals!