Cross 'Em Out And Put A 'K

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&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 crew

I'm true, you're through, nigga, fuck you

Nigga get on, this shit is wack

Fuck that, I bust you in the can with a motherfuckin' bumper jack

Spit on ya, shit on ya, when I get on ya, piss on ya

Goin' up in ya, fuckin' ya, 'cause I ain't lovin' none of ya

And even female rappers are gettin' smacked

Stabbed in the titties and kicked in the back

'Cause I'm a westside Connection hoodsta

Far from a lover dishin' nothin' but bullets and dirty rubbers

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Brrt

In about four seconds, a killa will begin to speak

Now you can cross out the bustas and snitches

B-Real and Ms. 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 dawg that know you (not one)

So watch what you say, who ya talk about, you tweekin'

And keep hogs outcha mouth when ya bitch ass is speakin'

I'm sick wit' it, cap at your dome 'til I hit it

This Westside Connection, Cypress know they can't fuck wit' 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

To yo' surprise, everybody dies

From Columbian neck ties covered with flies

Ya fuckin' maggots, ya fuckin' faggots

I should alert 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 got a problem with this gangsta shit

Behind closed doors, runnin' his mouth like a trick and

'Til this nigga by the name of Dub caught him slippin'

Tied his ass up and threw him in the trunk

Put a apple in his mouth then dug his ass out

About a month later they found his body stashed

In a trash bag with a cucumber in his ass

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Ay, I cross 'em out and put a K, Inglewood

Nigga, to South Central LA

Don't go chasin' waterfalls

Stick to them dicks and balls you're used to

Punk ass motherfucker, brrt