Westside Connection - Cross 'em Out And Put A 'k Lyrics

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In about four seconds a gangsta will begin to speak

Well it's the mad chickenhawk with the dirty lick style

And pullin' 211's ever since taa-doow there's ten million ways to die

Choosin' mack and hit the boopin' floosin'

Off this gang-bang music so all i'd wanna got the room stumped

I'm smokin' make dough like trump

Cookin' chowder to they chunk punk

Straight off dust nigga trust i bust

And cross 'em out and put a 'k if they ain't down with us

It's off the hook nigga i'm a westside crook nigga

The forty motherfuckin' dollars on my books nigga

I'm not an mc i'm not a g

I mean i'm a to fuckin' z and everything in between

Rappers like gangbangin' 'cos i'm in it to the fullest

And my hood ain't never dodgin' bullets

It's all about the bloods and crips no one tri-ips

Colors and dips bitches and chips nigga

What's this my friggen low-grader system

That takes puff b i itches on the premises

Nigga be dissin' on a down low so now my motto's

"fuck every rapper from the east and the west coast"

New school old school i hate you motherfuckers

I'm steady plottin' cracklin' my ass wit'cha album covers

Cross 'em out and put a 'k

Then no saint days nigga then run the fuckin' holidays

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

Goddamn nigga this shit make me sick

All these west coast cowards ridin' new york beat

Busters get sprayed wearin' high-top fades

And cango's backwards with dark-ass shades

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No switchblades nigga we shoots

That's how it is on the west when you're true to your roots

So kill the action punk hootchie bitches clown

Nigga get your sag on and keep your pants legs down

Check it ho' shut your mouth and get naked

I'm connected and ain't no bitches singin' on this record

No r and b tracks just niggas on wax

Kickin' facts with these gang-bang raps

Every nigga in the industry wanna rap with me

Like it's all good you ain't from my hood

Nigga i don't even like your shit i don't like your form

I'm true your through nigga fuck you

Nigga get off this shit is wacked

Fuck that i bust you in the can with a motherfuckin' propajack

Spit on ya shit on ya when i get on your pissil

You're goin' up and your fuckin' 'cos i ain't lovin' none of ya

And even the female rappers are gettin' smacked

Stabbed in the titties and kicked in the back

'cos i'm a westside connection hista

Bored from a lover dishin' nothin' but foolers and dirty rubbers

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

In about four seconds a killa will begin to speak

Now you can cross out the busters and snitches

B-real and miss muggs is like hollywood bitches

From the niggas i know in the streets i run through

Swear to god bitch real it ain't one dog and nobody

So watch what you saywho ya talkin' 'boutya tweakin'

And keep hogs out'cha mouth when ya bitch ass is speakin'

I'm sick wit it cappin' cha dome till i hit it

This westside connection cypress know they can't fuck with it

Use to get kisses and hugs now i'm servin' ya slugs

Fuck b-real and muggs y'all niggas ain't no fuckin' thugs

Be all surprised everybody dies

From columbian neckties covered with fright

Ya fuckin maggots ya fuckin' faggots

I shoulda hurt you every motherfucker that i know wanna hurt you

So when i pull my spray-can to spray

I'm sprayin' c h k all motherfuckin' day

I once knew this bitch by the name of q-tip

Who claim he had a problem with this gangsta shit

Behind closed doors runnin' his mouth like a trick-in

Till this nigga 'bout the name of dove caught him slippin'

Tied his ass up and threw him in the truck

Put an apple in his mouth and dug his ass out

I [incomprehensible] lead him then down his body stashed

In a trash bag with a cue-cover in his ass

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

'ey i cross 'em out and put a 'k

Inglewood nigga to south central l.a.

Don't go chasin' waterfalls

Stick to them dicks and balls you're used to

Punk ass motherfuckers

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