IBWC's in the house, fool
And Yo-Yo about to rock this muthafucka
And I'm sendin this out to all my homies in the west coast
Yo-Yo, kick that!

(Come on)

IBWin wit my CREWin

(Come on)

(Get down, get down, get down)

[ VERSE 1 ]
Back once again, rushin yo ass like a green light
Yo-Yo's back and puttin up another mean fight
Booty still packin, crates takin care of kickin terror
True to the game, fakin never
You know I'm from the Lench Mob, so I'll scrub if I have to
Beatin fools down, stompin em in the ground
See, hoes be gettin mad, tryin to step to the Yo-Yo
Because they man be at em blowin kisses at my photo
See, I'll hang yo ass by a tree
Gettin chopped while your neck snap at 3
Scot free, a psycho's on the loose, and if you haven't seen me
It's cause I wreck shit and disappear like a genie
A beanie is what the girlies wear when we're mobbin
IBWin, true fuckin crewin, you threw in the towel
When I started walkin the road to styles
Leavin dead bodies for miles and miles

Yeah, come on
(Come on)

IBWin wit my CREWin

(Come on)

(Get down, get down, get down)

[ VERSE 2 ]
Creepin like a tagger, got my stripes and I'm golden
Pop my JVC in my deck, and now I'm rollin
Oh and, if you didn't know that I be blowin
Dope funk tracks back to back, and they so fat
Dealin with a gangster man who's got a gangster plan
For those who don't understand
My motto's just like the lotto's:
Gotta say fuck it and make may ducats
Stayin on the d-l, so when you see me later, alligator
I'll be out a while, crocodile
Gettin real funky on my shit for nine-trey
>From the west to the east with my homies fade away
I can rock you harder than the ave'
So don't be mad if I smash this beat through your monkey ass
I'm just IBWin with my crew and
Doin what we doin, this is how we do it
Come on

(Come on)

IBWin wit my CREWin

(Come on)

(Get down, get down, get down)

[ VERSE 3 ]
I cop a little beat for the Yo to come off on
Anyway you ride it, you still can get your flow on
So listen while I g-o and break some niggas' ego
Yo-Yo be rippin shit, but you don't hear me though
It's one of those Saturdays, and we're hangin
Rollin 7 deep in my homie's station wagon
Lookin all faded, eyes redder than a apple
Stop at 7-11 cause Chenee want a snapple
Eyes all redded from the Thai, grab some ??? for the eye
Huh, cause everybody's high
Dressed in our best K-Swiss, and yes, oh yes
With the munchies, but ain't nobody got no munchie money
Just headed to the mall, so we can clown like we're doin it
They want to know, tell em we're IBWin
Just chillin, chillin and we're willin
And if you didn't know, we got that feelin
Ugh

(Come on)

IBWin wit my CREWin

(Come on)

IBWin wit my CREWin

Writer : YO-YO, QUINCY D. JONES III
Copyright : Lyrics © WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC