[Scratches]
[Figure out the path that I'm strollin' x3]
[Verse 1: YG Pimp D]
A lil' somethin' from the hood, punk biaitch!
YG Pimp D, young gangsta, bitch
Now there's a story to be told, about this young-ass G
How we fucked up the mothafuckin' rap industry
I got, rats on my nuts but I don't give a fuck
To the tick and to the tock, I'm gon' pimp these sluts
Some o' that me, bitches, I have no love
Dum-diddy-dum-dum-diddy-dum, get yo' ass on
Front, back, side to side, you know how we do it
Hittin' the three-wheel motion, and I keep woop woopin'
On a mothafuckin' paper chase, through the Westside
OG Inglewood known for the homicides
And to you lolly-ass niggas, I'll take yo' shady-ass bitch
And bank yo' busta ass for talkin' that, punk-ass shit
Nigga, how did you figure? You can't talk shit
It ain't no stoppin' when I let loose, when that Glock snitch
You better beware, of this mothafuckin' young psycho
A tale from the Westside, FUCK you hoes!
[Scratches]
[Figure out the path that I'm strollin' x3]
[Verse 2: Lil' Ms. China]
But damn, here I am, cuttin' up shit like servin' grams
Whoopin' that ass 'til I make a, slam
Dump, pump, pumpin' slugs inside ya
My name is China, Westside rida
Where niggas is known to serve yo' ass up and down
But when the top game goin', then I go against drunk
That's why I trust, no nigga, I trust, no bitches
And I'm 'bout to drop my shit, when a bitch wants to set trip
Now when I'm 'bout to set it off, like a rocket to the sky
Dismissin' these fools then hit 'em up with the Westside
So fuck what you stressin', 'cause nothin' can save ya
And this is the season where your mama's gonna grave ya
Slave ya, bitch, 'cause the C-H-I-N-A is in
The house with this knob in yo' mouth
So you know, that, you niggas can't fuck with this
And you just run outta your luck with this
No ditchin' and dodgin' tryna duck from this
'Cause when I cast that ass up, you gettin' bucked by this (Westside rida)
[Figure out the path that I'm strollin' x2]
[Verse 3: YG Tip Toe]
Comin' off the top off the mothafuckin' brain
You bitches cannot hang, with this mentally dangerous nigga from the bottom of the grave
Kickin' a style that's so wicked, you know we kill Rickets
In the hood, just for fun, buck your gun, you get done
And now as I slip, and I slide, slide but never slip
I'm from OG Inglewood, home, of the set trip
Takin' flight, through the air, like my nigga 20 Breed
You know who I be, T-I-P T-O-E
Now the shit that I spit is beyond the ultimate
Listen close, take a guess, I leave that ass, comatosed
Move to the left, move to the right, ooh shit, I'm outta sight
To you bitches on my nuts, know that I don't give a fuck
About the shit, that you say, I kick back and just parlay
Now as I woop, and I doop, off the block, with the Glock
As I pump, as I drop, when you drop, when you drop
It's the skills on the real, so fuck how you feel, biaaatch
Haha
[Verse 4: OYG Lil' Hawk]
Shootin' up your mothafuckin' turf, nigga, get ready for a tossin'
Bitch-ass niggas be bumpin' they gums but they be flossin'
Ain't nothin', I'm by myself breakin' 'em off somethin'
But I'm a gangsta, nigga, you ain't talkin' about nothin'
I'm steady dumpin' and pumpin' and pump 'fore you lie in yo' ass
It's goddamn, nigga, I ain't givin' up no passes
Just cappin' asses, and creepin' up out my crypt and shit
And bring it on if you think you can fuck with this
But you can't so don't even let it cross your mind
And get yo' ass shot with this, niggety-nine
I'm cickity-comin' all the way to the tickity-top
Diggity-droppin' a bomb 'cause you know it don't stop
You gets mopped, Glock, Glock, fulla yellow tape
You can run, you can hide, but yo' ass can't escape
From, um, this shit that I be hittin' and kickin' and spin with
Shakin' 'em down, I'm breakin' 'em down, emptyin' the whole clip
Bitch, and now you know how we hoo-ride
A lil' somethin' from the mothafuckin' Westside, nigga
