Various Artists Westside Slaughterhouse lyrics

Westside

Microphone check 1, O, from the west coast beller an' tella
I cuss like a sella, when you see her, she's a gonna
Moved to California
Blew the bitch up, put the gangsta twist on her

Sunny Southern Cal, it never snows
Niggas yellin' ha's an' ho's, we dumpin' out of '64s
When it comes to the gun play, we vets
It's West coast foe life, no crew, only sets

It's the dog, breathin' through the smog
I'm a hog of this gangster shit, don of the click
All you suckas wanna diss the Pacific
But you buster niggas never get specific

Used to love her, mad 'cause we fucked her
Pussy whipped bitch, with no common sense
Hip hop started in the West
Ice Cube bailin' through the East without a vest

Now as I look to my riznight an' to my left
I see motherfuckers starin' like they wanna step
So I'm grabin' my rusty screw driver
In case I got to cut ya deeper than Vanessa Del Rio's vagina

Finda 'notha crew of niggas who can fuck with this
Lyrical bully, givin' verbal bruises to crews, fool
You must be on dick, dope an' dynamite
How you figure speed on, before you get peed on, nigga?

Fool, what side is you, Red or the Blue?
Wild as the L.A. zoo, it's round two
I ignite, grab the mic, tight, strike like a rattle
Bring rhymes an' nines to the motherfuckin' battle

So sun down to sun up, run up with my gun up
All brakes get to pumpin', they know a nigga dumpin'
You dread like a rasta when I lock like a terrier
Mack 10, the nigga, with the heat that'll bury ya

Do a walk by
An' watch everybody die
Niggas into gangs thangs an' narcotics
Freak bitches, riches an' hydraulics

Pull heat, knock you off yo feet
Clear the whole block, both sides of the street
Even cribs an' bloods hear my thuds
Fee fy foe fum, hey nigga, where you from?

Fuck all you niggas, I'm yellin'
This is mad circle to the fullest, everybody 187
Toons play the piano, fuck a battle
I'm sockin' rappers like mad man Santiago

'Cause you niggas ain't impressin' me
Plus you singin' big red records
So nigga, fuck what you tellin' me
Sit down junior, you couldn't see me if you wanted to
Look y'all, it Mack 10, Cube an' the W

Westside's on the map
Niggas rapping since the '70's and still never went gold
Westside's on the map
Niggas rapping since the '70's and still never went gold

I just had a scrap fo' the neighborhood

Inglewood stereotype, got to deal with the hype
Known to kick back with the fat sack, fuck that
Where my gat at? These nigga trippin' off my bulls hat

About to let loose with the chrome tray, dude
5 shots an' I put holes in yo bandanna
I push a Benz you still rollin' Gs
So nigga, miss me with the set, trip an' start slangin' keys

When I say itchy citchy, niggas get bitchy, bitchy
'Cause they heard of ah 'Natural Born Murderah'
I'm like Frankenstein, it's spankin' time
Layin' in the sunshine with only one nine

Now who wants to bust with the never rust?
Goin' platinum, plus every time I cuss
So fuck the whole world black
Niggas, better hope I don't grow my Jeri curl back

Stepper, murderah steppin' out a Chevrolet
Sportin' a beenie like Marvin Gaye
Stalkin', walkin' in my big black chuck's
Standin' tall in your freestyle session, holdin' my balls

I'm peepin' game like a ref in '95
'Cause niggas be foul an' bitin' other niggas' styles
But if you're bitin' this, you better bring a dentist
'Cause suckin' these balls ah give yo ass lock jaws, fool

Which way shall I go, nigga, what should I do?
Should I bang with the Red or should I truce with the Blue?
Should I rock dope beats an' grab the mic an' stay down?
Or should I shoot outta town an' flip this pound?

Shit, I never knew that my nuts ah get bigger
Checkin' major figures, I'm hangin' with platinum niggas
It's Mack 10 an' I'm Inglewood swangin'
No time fo bangin', but still got my khakis hangin'

Fuck one love, it's the bloody glove, killin' honkey hoes
Leavin' blood stains on Broncos
In a Hertz rental, I drive on the 405
Is he dead or alive?

Motherfuck court, took another snort
Jumpin' over chairs as I run through the airport
So I can catch a flight away from the drama
Number 32, chillin' in the Bahamas

Oh, sucky ducky quack quack, niggas ain't knowin' how to act
Sucka ducks play the back
Nigga use to dis, now it's turnin' around
An' like Brandy, motherfuckers wanna be down

With this West coast rap game, I can give a fuck
If you wasn't down at first, you can buck these nuts
Transformers get stole on boom
Get the picture, killa, Cali home of the body bags, nigga

Westside's on the map
Niggas rapping since the '70's and still never went gold
Westside's on the map
Niggas rapping since the '70's and still never went gold

Westside