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, ***** trust I bust
And cross 'em out and put a 'K if they ain't down with us

It's off the hook, *****, I'm a Westside crook, *****
The forty mother***kin' dollars on my books, *****
I'm not an MC, I'm not a G
I mean I'm A to ***kin' Z and everything in between

Rappers like ********in' '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, *****es and chips, *****

What's this my friggen low-grader system
That takes puff B I itches on the premises
***** be dissin' on a down low, so now my motto's
'***k every rapper from the East and the West Coast'

New School, Old School, I hate you mother***kers
I'm steady plottin', cracklin' my *** wit'cha album covers
Cross 'em out and put a 'K
Then no Saint days, *****, then run the ***kin' holidays

'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.
'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.

'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.
'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.

Goddamn *****, this **** 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-*** shades

No switchblades, *****, we shoots
That's how it is on the West when you're true to your roots
So kill the action, punk, hootchie *****es clown
***** 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 *****es singin' on this record
No R and B tracks, just *****s on wax
Kickin' facts with these gang-bang raps

Every ***** in the industry wanna rap with me
Like it's all good, you ain't from my hood
*****, I don't even like your ****, I don't like your form
I'm true, your through, ***** ***k you

***** get off, this **** is wacked
***k that, I bust you in the can with a mother***kin' propajack
Spit on ya, **** on ya when I get on your pissil
You're goin' up and your ***kin' 'cos I ain't lovin' none of ya

And even the female rappers are gettin' smacked
Stabbed in the ***ties 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, *****, to South Central L.A.
'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.

'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.
'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, 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 *****es
From the *****s I know in the streets I run through
Swear to God *****, real it ain't one dog and nobody

So watch what you say,who ya talkin' 'bout,ya tweakin'
And keep hogs out'cha mouth when ya ***** *** is speakin'
I'm sick wit it, cappin' cha dome till I hit it
This Westside Connection, Cypress know they can't ***k with it

Use to get kisses and hugs, now I'm servin' ya slugs
***k B-Real and Muggs, y'all *****s ain't no ***kin' thugs
Be all surprised, everybody dies
From Columbian neckties covered with fright

Ya ***kin maggots, ya ***kin' ***gots
I shoulda hurt you, every mother***ker that I know wanna hurt you
So when I pull my spray-can to spray
I'm sprayin' C H K all mother***kin' day

I once knew this ***** by the name of Q-Tip
Who claim he had a problem with this gangsta ****
Behind closed doors, runnin' his mouth like a trick-in
Till this ***** 'bout the name of Dove caught him slippin'

Tied his *** up and threw him in the truck
Put an apple in his mouth and dug his *** out
I [Incomprehensible] lead him then down his body stashed
In a trash bag with a cue-cover in his ***

'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.
'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.

'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.
'Ey, I cross 'em out and put a 'K
Inglewood, *****, to South Central L.A.

Don't go chasin' waterfalls
Stick to them ****s and balls you're used to
Punk *** mother***kers