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 ***** up and put the gangsta twist on her

Sunny Southern Cal, it never snows

N*ggas 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 sh*t, Don of the clique

All you suckas wanna diss the Pacific

But you buster n*ggas never get specific

Used to love her, mad 'cause we f*cked her

P*ssy-whipped ***** 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 motherf*ckers 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 ******

Find a-notha crew of n*ggas that can f*ck with this

Lyrical bully, given verbal bruises to crews, fool

You must be on d*ck, d*pe and dynamite. How you figure?

Speed on before you get peed on, n*gga

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 muthaf*ckin' battle

So sun down to sun up, run up with my gun up

All brakes get to pumpin', you know a n*gga dumpin'

You dread like a Rasta when I lock like a terrier

Mack 10, that n*gga with the heat that'll bury ya

Oh ah, oh ah, do a walk by, and watch everybody die

N*ggas into gangs, thangs and narcotic

Freak *****es, 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 n*gga, where you from? (Westside!)

F*ck all you n*ggas, I'm yellin'

This is M.A.A.D. Circle to the fullest everybody 187

Toones play the piano, f*ck a battle

I'm socking rappers like mad man Santiago

'Cause you n*ggas ain't impressin' me

Plus you signed to Big Red Records, so n*gga, f*ck 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"

Westside's on the map!

N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold!

Westside's on the map!

N*ggas 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, f*ck that

Where my gat at? These n*ggas 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 n*gga miss me with that set trippin', start slangin' keys

When I say gitchy-gitchy, n*ggas get *****y-*****y

'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 f*ck the whole world, black (F*ck 'em!)

N*ggas 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 *****

I'm peepin' game like a ref in '95

'Cause n*ggas be foul and bitin' other n*ggas' styles

But if you're bitin' this, you better bring a dentist

'Cause sucking these *****'ll give your a*s lockjaw, fool

Which way shall I go? N*gga, what should I do?

Should I bang with the red or should I truce with the blue?

Should I rock d*pe beats, and grab the mic and stay down?

Or should I shoot out of town and flip this pound? Sh*t

I never thought that my ****'a get bigger

Checkin' major figures, I'm hangin' with platinum n*ggas

It's Mack 10 and I'm Inglewood swingin'

No time for bangin', but still got my khakis hangin'

F*ck 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-f*ck 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

N*ggas ain't knowin' how to act

Sucka ducks play the back

N*ggas used to diss but now it's turning around

And like Brandy, motherf*ckers wanna be down with this

West Coast rap game, I can give a f*ck

If you wasn't down at first, you can buck these ****

Transformers get stole on (BOOM)

Get the picture, killa Cali, home of the body bags, n*gga

Westside's on the map!

N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold!

Westside's on the map!

N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold!