Cross ’Em Out And Put A ’K lyrics

by

Westside Connection


[Intro: Ice Cube]
Brrrgh!
Ay!
Ay!
In about four seconds, a gangsta will begin to speak

[Verse 1: Mack 10]
Well it's the mad chickenhawk with the dirty lick style
Been pullin 211's ever since TaDow
It's ten million ways to die, choose it
Mack will hit the loop and loose it
Off this gang-bang music
Slaughter water got the room stunk
I smoke and make dough like Trump
Cookin' powder till they chunk, punk!
Straight off dust, n*gga trust I'll bust
And cross 'em out and put a'K if they ain't down with us

[Verse 2: Ice Cube]
It's off the hook, n*gga, I'm a Westside crook, n*gga
Put 40 motherf*ckin' dollars on my books, n*gga
I'm not a MC, I'm not a G
I mean I'm A-to-f*ckin'-Z and everythang in between
Rappers like gangbangin', 'cause I'm in it to the fullest
And my hood ain't never dodging bullets
It's all about the Bloods and Crips, dogs and rips
Corners and dips, b*tches and chips, n*gga!
[Verse 3: WC]
Do-do-do-do-do-do
What's this? My frickeler radar system
Detects busta B-I-itches on the premises
n*ggas be dissin' on a down low
So now my motto's "f*ck every rapper from the East and the West Coast"
New School, Old School, I hate you motherf*ckers
I'm steady plottin', wipin' my ass with your album covers
Cross 'em out and put a'K
Even on Sundays n*gga, to mothaf*ckin' holidays

[Hook]
Hey!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
[Verse 4: Mack 10]
Goddamn n*gga! This sh*t make me sick
All these West Coast cowards ridin' New York di*k (Brrgh!)
Bustas get sprayed wearin high-top fades
And Kangol's backwards with dark-ass shades
No switchblades, n*gga, we shoot
That's how it is on the West when you're true to your roots
So kill the action, punk, hoochie b*tches clown
n*gga get your sag on and keep your pants legs down

[Verse 5: Ice Cube]
Check it! Ho shut your mouth and get naked!
I'm Connected and ain't no b*tches singin on this record
No R&B tracks, just n*ggas on wax
Kickin' facts with these gang-bang raps
Every n*gga in the industry wanna rap with me
Like it's all good, you ain't from my hood
n*gga, I don't even like your sh*t, I don't like your crew
I'm true, you're through, n*gga f*ck you!

[Verse 6: WC]
n*gga get on, this sh*t is wack
f*ck that, I bust you in the can with a motherf*ckin bumper jack
Spit on ya, sh*t on ya, when I get on ya, p*ss on ya
Going up in ya, f*cking ya, cause I ain't lovin none of ya
And even female rappers are getting smacked
Stabbed in the titties and kicked in the back
'Cause I'm a westside Connection hoodsta
Far from a lover dishing nothing but bullets and dirty rubbers
[Hook]
Ey!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ey!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!

[Ice Cube]
Brrrgh!
In about four seconds, a killa will begin to speak

[Verse 7: Mack 10]
Now you can cross out the bustas and snitches
B-Real and Ms. Muggs is like Hollywood b*tches
From the n*ggas I know in the streets I run through
Swear to god b*tch real it ain't one dog that know you (not one)
So watch what you say, who ya talk about, you tweekin
And keep hogs out'cha mouth when ya b*tch ass is speakin
I'm sick wit it, cap at your dome till I hit it
This Westside Connection, Cypress know they can't f*ck with it

[Verse 8: Ice Cube]
Use to get kisses and hugs, now I'm servin ya slugs
f*ck B-Real and Muggs, y'all n*ggas ain't no f*ckin thugs
To your surprise, everybody dies
From Columbian neck ties covered with flies
Ya f*ckin maggots, ya f*ckin faggots
I should alert you, every motherf*cker that I know wanna hurt you
So when I pull my spray can to spray
I'm sprayin C-H-K all motherf*ckin day

[Verse 9: WC]
I once knew this b*tch by the name of Q-Tip
Who claim he got a problem with this gangsta sh*t
Behind closed doors, runnin' his mouth like a trick and
'Til this n*gga 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 cuc*mber in his ass

[Hook]
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!
Ay!
I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
Inglewoooood!
n*gga! To South Central L.A.!

[Ice Cube]
Don't go chasin' waterfalls
Stick to them di*ks and balls you're used to
Punk ass motherf*ckers!

Brrrrgh!
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