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Artist: Big Unc
Album:  Westside 'G' Style
Song:   Christcyde
Typed by: 

This is how we ride, comin straight live
On the Christcyde
This is how you roll, gotta lay low
From the po-po

[Big Unc]
Mission Impossible as I step to this microphone
I'm makin sure that this mic is on
So I can spit it God's words to you
Serve a few, cause that's what Big Unc got the nerve to do
In the name of Jesus, my Lord
Let his spirit transform the mic cord
Into a lyrical life line, spiritual pipe line
To get this people back into their right mind
Cause half of all straight lost a screw
My God is true, now tell me what I gotta do
To keep my cool before I have to sweep a fool
And weep for you because you couldnt keep it ture
You need to do, exactly what he speak to you
He seekin you, but you just keep sleepin dude
I'm peepin you, when we be creepin through
We teachin youth but there aint no reachin fools


[Big Unc]
I spit lyrical loogies when I boogie 
And a question on all of your minds
Is how could He, do what He do 
And straight keep it real 
And represent Jesus Christ to the mass apeal
And chill in the hood wit my dawgs
On the corner six bones Cadaliac sittin phat on daytonyas
I warned ya, crack when you come to California 
Wit that word aint you heard that these Devil's run up on ya
Hata's playas they all the same
A fork tongue in they mouths, tellin lies for fame
The game gotta twisted to the point I wanna holla
Got Christian MC's on tv straight poppin collars
While the people on the streets can't afford to eat
You up in church dont even work wit gators on your feet
That's weak and I dont care if I step on your pride
I just call it how I see it, reportin live from this Christcyde


[Big Unc]
I said hold up wait a minute
Let me see my real riders Christ walk wit it
And put it down to the ground for real
And show the whole world how we truely feel
I said hold up wait a minute
Let me see my real riders Christ walk wit it
And hit em up and put your hands to the sky
And represent Jesus Christ to the day that we die
I've been sent by his majesty, to blast at theses
Emphadeles speakin this blashemy
A tragedy, if you askin me
I told the truth about you fools and now you made a me
Now actually, I'm glad you smashed on me
Aint got to feel bad about the catastrophy
That has to be, when I take this mastapeice
And have all of yall soundin like Master P
Infact it be, the way a real rider rides
Not an eye for an eye but it's ride or die
So flyin high, when you be ridin by
And let the whole globe know the Lord's alive
You wonder why, We all go and run and hide
Gotta hold of the truth to expose the lie 
He chose to die, then he straight rose to life 
To show us why, we gotta put it down for this Christcyde