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Текст песни Ant Banks f Spice-1, King Tee - West Riden

Ant Banks f Spice-1, King Tee - West Riden слова песни

Intro:Yeah, Young jock up in this beezeeClaiming and representing that S-P geezee shitPutting it down with my nigga the big bad assSpice 1 and King THigh siding and westside ridingGot my nigga from the feezee up in this beezeeWe doing big thangs in the nine seezeeKicking bitches in the booty and pointing out theirdutyYeah any motherfucker that wanna try us knows whereto find usMotherfuckerKing Tee:This shit couldn`t get no harderNiggas is about to make me flip and commit manslaughterAll my dreams result to nightmaresSo I walk around the hood strapped like I don`t careTruth or dare, I dare you to dis the west coastThe truth is them niggas will split your vest locWith hollowpoint slugs, Crips and Bloods, we come deepAnd roll in those Range Rover JeepsI was a made man at fifteen yearsCuz momma didn`t raise no faggotty queerI got paid fronting bad colors in the ninth gradeAnd on the westside is where I playStraight sick, when my big uncle smoked dipAnd grabbed his four four and took me with him on alickAnd sure as the sun will come up and just shineThe niggas couldn`t believe the Rolex was all mineSpice-1:Yeah divine niggas the lexxy shine and the fettyMotherfuckers ain`t ready, see they won`t hold theirheads steadywhen we come with the fifty caliber Desert EagleFeeling you motherfuckers over slugs equalYou these diamonds on the pinky, Rolex up on the wristNext nigga run up on me for my pieces is catchingwhole clipsNo sucker to the G-A in meYou fail to realize sometimes that I dump on G-PBlack Bossalini, King T-E-E and S-P-IBorn to die, westside riding staying high187 proof a ma-a-mack ten shooterHope the ba-a-black talons go right through youBeen mobbing since a youngster, laced like hundred spokesAin`t no rules in the game, niggas die and go for broke He didn`t no I was strapped, he didn`t no I was ready Blow a hole in his chest and take off with a nigga`s fettyChorus:Real killers on the westside don`t be fooledWe in the sun where the kids wear their vests to schoolSoft niggas don`t survive they be taking a dive(West Side)Refuse to leave them player haters aliveReal killers on the westside don`t be fooledWe out west where the kids wear their vests to schoolSoft niggas don`t survive they be taking a dive(West Side)Refuse to leave them player haters aliveKing Tee:Ah yes all the way to niggas in projectsThat heard about the King that be strapped with two techsRolling in a Lex with them twenty inch chrome rimsTrying to find a ho for some trimLaid back, smoking on the doja locAt the light all the hos watch me cough and chokeYoung player, can I take a ride with youHell no, can I trust my life with youYou look shady just left four ??? with four babiesAnd I can hear your ass screaming save meTrick I`m in a zone guns, clips and chipped up phonesAnd Vibe tapes of old love songs straight goneDipping and giving a fuck at who`s tripping Catch a nigga at the airport slippingHuh, what a shame send his ass back from where itcame in a casket California love turned drasticI`m come G`d up, niggas getting beat upAnd I`m smoking all their dirt cess weed upKing T`s G style got them hidingCuz this is what we call west ridingSpice-1:See some of the haters try to fade you partner, butain`t nobody coming closeI keep some scissors up in the cut, so give me ten feet at the mostAin`t no generic artificial, Realer than you can imaginePassing out in the back of limos with a lap full of cash and mashingDreaming of mad tales, with waterfalls in swimming poolsI`m living the life of a rap starEighty thousand dollar cars, jaccuzzi rooms with minibarsHit the casino dropping fetty on tables smoking Cuban cigarsYou need to quitSprinkle a motherfucker that will leave you splitTore back ass out bringing you your hatFlat broke, talking about fuck that nigga S-P-IBut you can`t go one on one Spice 1 because I`m born to dieI gets medieval up on they ass like punk bitches in ditchesThe gangsterism resulting in murderismBailing up in your hooptie at the gas station You facing the killer for real-a punk ass niggaWhere the scrillaJacking you for your shit, taking your ends pull off my maskHitting the corner, hopping up in my Benz with your cashMobbing I mash out, you ass outLeft you shot up in your seven-trey glasshouseChorusWest side Riding while we getting higherThat`s the way we do itWest side Riding while we getting higherThat`s the way we do itOn the Westside

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