Lyrics
Oh, yeah! It ain't over, motherfuckers
These niggas don't understand
Every few years, niggas got to get they motherfuckin' caps peeled back
Nigga, this Westside, nigga
Don't think, nigga, don't think
Now, next motherfuckers go by the name of Cypress Hill
K all motherfuckin' day
Every few years niggas think they can deal with the real
Now I gots to fuck Cypress Hill
I got a voice you should fear
I drink a beer, bust a rap and end your fuckin' career
You fuckin' cowards, never seen a hood high-powered
Like the Westside Connect, slide me my TEC!
I got 'em! Soon as I spot 'em, I'm dumpin'
Gotta treat these bitch ass niggas like they stole somethin'
I see a joint in your clutch
You're smokin' that shit too much, got yo' bitch ass touched
Sen Dog, you can't rap from the guts
And B-Real soundin' like he got baby nuts
I don't know why y'all think you slick
I don't know one rapper down wit' your clique (bitch)
I don't know one bitch on your dick
And I don't know one nigga bumpin' your shit
I hear you claimin' South Central
Wait! You ain't from my hood, y'all hoes from South Gate
Comin' with a voice high-pitched
The "B" in B-Real must stand for bitch
Well, it's the hip-hop junkie startin' static
Now I'm rollin' up Cypress Hill, lettin' niggas have it
Got these wannabe thugs up, load my slugs up
A-yo, back up, Cube Dogg, we passed that bitch Muggs up
Pull over, lemme out, it's on on-site
Now lemme show this white boy what that Westside Connect like
Booyah, booyah from the gauge as I spit 'em
The buckshots spray, made 'em lay as I hit 'em, uh
Ain't got to sweat his punk ass no mo'
One down and two to go, hand me a fo'-fo'
Lemme get my ride on, get my homicide on
B-Real wish he could be me 'cause he know he can't see me, bitch
You should've knew you can't fade a real hog
Breathin' Inglewood smog 'cause I'm a real dog
You bustas wanna see me, but you can't come close
Because I ace homies with Amerikkka's Most
Nigga, miss me! I'm used to a ho tryin' to kiss me
Now, what gave yo' bitch ass enough heart to diss me?!
You'll come up missin', and Sen Dog is so wack, he ain't worth dissin'
You niggas need to listen
On everythin' I love, my heat can't release a dub
Fuck rappin', fuck strappin', I created another bloody glove
It's 1-0, and for sho' I'll kill
You pussies can't match my skill 'cause I'm the king of the hill
Everybody in the ghetto, know what you're doin'
One white boy and two fuckin' Cubans
Claimin' that you're loco, but you ain't Mexican
Listen to "No Vaseline" before you flex again
Fuckin' with the hogs
You say you Bloods, but you ain't liked by the dogs, fool
On tour only rappin' to the yuppies
We the big fish, I'll make a dish out you fuckin' guppies
So who are y'all with?
Niggas down with Cypress can wipe this shit off my dick
As I stick it like King Kong and play ping-pong
With this fake ass Cheech & Chong
Did you tell ya momma that I had to help ya
When Sen Dog left your bitch ass in Australia?
You say that I took your hook?
It must be the white boy thinkin' all niggas crooks
Now what? You hip-hop hippies?
How you fuckin' junkies think you gonna punk me and chill
And deal with the fact that you ain't got enough skill
To kill the king of the hill?
Ice Cube, could you pass me my steel?
For real, I'm the king of the hill (Westside)
Mack10, could you pass me my steel?
For real, I'm the king of the hill (Westside)
Ice Cube, could you pass me my steel?
For real, I'm the king of the hill (Westside)
Westside, could you pass me my steel?
For real, I'm the king of the hill (Westside)
I'm havin' Illusions
Of Westside niggas whoopin' on your motherfuckin' ass
That's what you got illusions of, bitch
Yeah, nigga, you's a bitch
Dog, we ain't got no niggas like you on my side
Nigga, this Inglewood
Westside, yeah
Check it out
We're waitin' for round 2, you punk ass motherfuckers
And anybody else that wanna get some, stand in line
But bring ya lunch, motherfuckers
Dizzam, somebody got fucked up, nigga
