[Sen Dog] Gangster Red, whassup yo?   [Gst Red] It's a Tribe thang      Verse One: B-Real      Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente   See a gang, no there ain't no jugete   Rollin like a pyscho with the windows rolled down   Who you lookin at, you tryin to fade me clown?   Plato, si mon, you want static   When you reach for your gat to load your automatic   (Boo-yaa!!) Spittin out buckshots   Homey say blood claat, so you can call a pig   Cause no one could handle, I wind up, and loco   Insane in the brain, you get the bullet and      Chorus: B-Real, Sen Dog      A hole in your head   A hole in your fuckin head/A fuckin hole in your head   In your head!   A hole in the/your head, a hole in the/your head   You get a hole in the head (a hole in the head) in your motherfuckin head   Huh!/In your head   A hole in the head, a hole in the head      Verse Two: B-Real      Eight barrel pumpin, system thumpin   See a fine heina, c'mon baby jump in   I stop to cop, here let me tell you somethin   Me and you, bruca, we should be humpin   Honey likes the mack, homey's got her in the bag   But there's vato's rollin out, and they're stickin up the flag   He jumps out with the sag, hey where ya from homes?   It's on... he sees him reachin for his chrome   Buckshot to the dome, jumps in the Brome   Honey's in the back but she just wants to go home   But he trips to the store homeboy needs a forty   White boy at the counter's thinkin oh lordy lordy!   Pushin on the button, panickin for nuttin   Pigs on the way, aiyyo I smells bacon   Dips out the store, one-time hits the corner   And he hits the fuckin alley like his homes was Pop Warner   Still had the forty, comin at the alley   Seen the chief's son, pig Officer O'Malley, oink   In the black and white thinkin he's gonna check him right   Wrong, hah, it's gonna be on   That pig better suck a la chrome (P.D. 187)   A to the motherfuckin K! (You know whassup Sen)   Get your ass down! And by the way      Chorus      A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby Doo y'all   Scooby Doo!   A Scooby Doo y'all, a doobie doobie doo y'all   Doobie doo!   A Scooby Doo y'all, Scooby Doo y'all!   Scooby Doo!   A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby doobie Doo y'all      Verse Three: B-Real      Six rollin up and now he's really baffled   Brother's thinkin 'Damn I never got this gaffled' (to' up)   Beat down (down) on the way to the station   Gaffled up from a false accusation   Oink to the pen, you know homes the one that's where the   attitudes apply and where the punks'll be dined   Made a comb to a shank, I'm gonna stick ya   Wet ya, you know homes the picture   (Yeah you never been to jail boy!)   Broomstick up your ass   And by the way, you get      Chorus 2X      [Sen Dog] Yeah South Central and the Westside teamed up   This is hell boy   [Gst Red] It's a Tribe thang... straight up! It's a Tribe thang   [Sen Dog] What side is that Red?   [B-Real] Can they kick it?   Can they kick it?   Yeah, can they kick it?   I'm Sirnose and they cannot kick it