West Coast Connection Forum
Elements => Tha Studio => Topic started by: M Dogg™ on May 08, 2003, 03:42:49 PM
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I come from the home of killaz, gangstas and car jacks, where every day drug dealers make moves and we eat Big Mack's/
Fuck playing, this is the attack to get revenge retallation and get back, you must be bad 'cause that your crews back you lack/
For real son, you get your crew, 'cause I'm tired of you, for a long time we was though and a bitch never twice gets screwed/
Gareefa, asked you homie what he knew before your mouth blew, We what Murder Inc would be, without the bitches and Ja Rule/
Tell Mack he should more skillz when he bites, 'cause Pr1mo's lyrics made him sound tight, and he should get him to ghostwrite/
How to Rob WCC is a trait the DA does right, but yo where's Kill, oh outta sight, reppin' Cloud 9 well all of our Elites are in there prime/
Kick in the Door, Wave the 44, All I heard wass Angel don't hit him no more
(ha ha... R.I.P. Biggie)
This goes out for those that choose to use disrespectful views on the King of WCC/
Fuck that, why try, 'cause it's me that you'll never be/
Now ya braille in it, stash that light shit, or scalin it/
Conscience of ya nonsense and seals your fate/
Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson, Tote steel like Bronson, "Vigilante"/
You wannabe like God's Son well I'll play Biggie/
Ain't no other king in this rap thing
They siblings, nothing but my chil'ren, one shot, they disappearin/
It's ill when, MC's used to be on cruddy shit, read my post real close, studied shit/
Now they on some crew pride shit, successful out the blue/
Champ of Lightweight, fragilly, my nine makes you filthy
Beware of this snake, 'cause you know war never funny/
And you still recoupin, stupid/
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you rip it up nice