Lyrics Westside Connection

Westside Connection

The Gangsta, the Killa and the Dope Dealer

Hey, living in a California cage--ya'll trying to study me

Gangbangin' a never die--it's too much love

You always gonna get niggas like us, you know what I mean

God damn--how many more motherfuckin' penatentaries ya'll gonna build

How many jars you gonna try to put us in

You know what I'm saying

Killa county is a state, murda

Can't none of ya'll niggas fuck with none of these niggas

These triggas we's killas (hahaha)

Sittin' on the porch in between legs

Wit a bitch French braiding my head

Leave 'em til they matted forearm tatted

What's the Connection bitch you looking at it

It don't stop

I hit mo' licks than it

Takes to get to the center (once, two, three) of a blow pop

And it's gonna take a miracle

To drive a car this color down Imperial

Yeah, I got heart but ain't trying to see Marcia Clark

(Punk ass nigga)

So let's wait till it get dark

So many foe's walk in my ??

It's like the international, house of pancakes

All on the grass, every bitch passed

A first not last, when we all hit the ass

Doin' tricks jacked up like a six (what)

One Pussy, and thirteen dicks

Gangsta's don't dance we boogie (ahhh)

Niggas run out and get ya cookie

Killa county is a state, murda

Who's that dumpin' out that window hoo riding (westsiide)

Nobody survives when I got my steel up

Throwing my shit up pulling the trigga

What the fuck you lookin' at nigga True blue when I bust

Leavin' bodies hangin' like the tongue of my chucks

Chalk another one, homicidal in the G ride

I swear I'm killing every nigga standing outside

Letting 'em have it

With my double barrel sawed off

I'm smoking everybody nigga bitches and all

Stretch 'em out in broad daylight muthafuck the witnesses

Eyes big as golf balls from the funny cigarette As the sun frowns on my forehead

I sweat murder which makes me a walking dead man

Man bringing more bad news than shlepp rock

When I bust shots

W.C. keep the hammer cocked

The gangsta, the killa, and the dope deala

What's crackin

Well, it's the nigga that's housin' the scene

I got pounds of green and birds sittin' on the triple beams

I put it down on and off the record my flats a

Double decker, marble floors all checkered

Now what can I say every bitch I lay be pure and

Bombay like Peruvian yae

So I brag and I boast man I got the most, man

I make more deliveries than the postman

My homie Carlito plug me with the amigos an

Now it's kilos five and six double zeros

Now what's next I'm stuck like a Kotex

Blindin' niggas with the buggas in my Rolex

With my aces o-t on a regular basis

We got pauveted faces fightin' federal cases

Cause ain't nothin' reala' than niggas gettin' they scrilla

Like a gangsta, a killa

But Mack I'll be the dope deala

Killa county is a state, murda The gangsta the killa and the dope deala (murda)

Damn it's a trip, all these cameras goin up

I cant go here, I can't go there

I feel institutionalized

And i'm on the street