westside slaughterhouse
Westside!
Microphone check 1-0 from the West Coast bailer and teller
I cuss like a sailor
When you see her she’s a goner, moved to California
Blew the bitch up and put the gangsta twist on her
Sunny Southern Cal, it never snows
Niggas yellin' ‘hey’s and ‘ho's
We jumpin’ outta 6-4's
When it comes to the gun play, we vets
It's West Coast for life, no crews, only sets
Well, it's the dog, breathin' out the smog
I'm a hog of this gangsta shit, Don of the clique
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 bellin' through the East without a vest
Now as I look to my riz-zight and to my left
I see motherfuckers staring like they wanna step
So I'm grabbin' my rusty screwdriver
In case I got to cut ya deeper than Vanessa Del Rio's vagina
Find a-notha crew of niggas that can fuck with this
Lyrical bully, given verbal bruises to crews, fool
You must be on dick, dope and 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 your rhymes and nines to the muthafuckin' battle
So sun down to sun up, run up with my gun up
All brakes get to pumpin', you know a nigga dumpin'
You dread like a Rasta when I lock like a terrier
Mack 10, that nigga with the heat that'll bury ya
Oh ah, oh ah, do a walk by, and watch everybody die
Niggas into gangs, thangs and narcotic
Freak bitches, riches, and hydraulics
Pull heat, knock you off your feet
Clear the whole block, both sides of the street
Even Crips and Bloods hear my thuds
Fee fie foe fum—ay nigga, where you from? (Westside!)
Fuck all you niggas, I'm yellin'
This is M.A.A.D. Circle to the fullest everybody 187
Toones play the piano, fuck a battle
I'm socking rappers like mad man Santiago
‘Cause you niggas ain't impressin' me
Plus you signed to Big Red Records, so nigga, fuck what you tellin' me
Sit down junior, you couldn't see me if you wanted to
Look ya'll, it's Mack 10, Cube and the "W"
Ice Cube: Westside’s on the map!
Mack 10: Niggas rappin’ since the ‘70s and still never went gold!
I just had a scrap for the neighborhood
Inglewood stereotype, gotta deal with the hype
Known to kick back with the fat sack, fuck that
Where my gat at? These niggas trippin’ off my Bulls hat
About to let loose with the chrome trey-deuce
Five shot, and I, put holes in your bandana
I push a Benz, you still rollin' G's
So nigga miss me with that set trippin’, start slangin' keys
When I say gitchy-gitchy, niggas get bitchy-bitchy
‘Cause they heard of the natural born murderer
I'm like Frankenstein, it's spankin' time
Layin' in the sunshine with only one nine
So who wants to bust with the never-rust?
Goin' platinum plus, every time I cuss
So fuck the whole world, black (Fuck ‘em!)
Niggas better hope I don't grow my jheri-curl back
Step up, murderer, steppin' out a Chevrolet
Sportin' a beanie like Marvin Gaye
Stalkin', walkin' in my big black Chucks
Standin' tall in your freestyle session holdin' my balls
I'm peepin' game like a ref in '95
‘Cause niggas be foul and bitin' other niggas' styles
But if you're bitin' this, you better bring a dentist
‘Cause sucking these balls'll give your ass lockjaw, 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, and grab the mic and stay down?
Or should I shoot out of town and flip this pound? Shit
I never thought that my nuts'a get bigger
Checkin' major figures, I'm hangin’ with platinum niggas
It's Mack 10 and I'm Inglewood swingin'
No time for bangin', but still got my khakis hangin'
Fuck one love, it's the bloody glove, killin' honkey hoes
Leaving blood stains on Broncos
In a Hertz rental, I drive on the 405
Is he dead or alive?
Mother-fuck 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
Ah, Shucky Ducky, quack quack
Niggas ain't knowin' how to act
Sucka ducks play the back
Niggas used to diss but now it's turning around
And 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
Ice Cube: Westside’s on the map!
Mack 10: Niggas rappin’ since the ‘70s and still never went gold!