[Intro: Ice-T] Yeah, Ice-T up in here, boy (Westside Niggaz) Got my man Hot Dolla in the house, you know what I'm saying? (Westside, you know) J-E-L, Rhyme Poetic Mafia up in here (Westside Niggaz) Got Mr. Wesside in the place, you know what I'm saying? (Westside Niggaz) Straight lace hustlers in the house Yo Wesside, tell them how you do it, baby
[Verse 1: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside] Drinking up my Alpine 18-inch bolt gauge bumping up jealous niggaz on my mind It's my cash, my dollars, my paper Just hit the lick, now, suckers wanna pull capers
What you think all my gats is for? But ain't got no Rottweilers by the door Bring your ass on in friend, then, counting my currency Til call you sleep out of the blue twenty Mac 90s, mind on my money Still trying to fuck that bitch in Aqua Out the bally cause I used to love ya My bunny, is acting, funny, but fuck you bitch Bouncing on these bitches, like eighteen switches Side to side, front, three-wheel motion Sedan De Ville sliding like lotion Out of the Central (WHAT?!) Upping to the hills with my kinfolks
[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside] Niggaz gonna be bouncing down the Street-zy To this beat-zy, with the heat-zy, another deize-y With your dough money, dose money, money rose on your dome Moving on Chrome, and gold (Ds)
[Verse 2: Hot Dolla] Nigga, I can't loose, just I ooze up and down these tracks Cause the booth has got me feeling like the rat pack In the killing to the ceiling with my height, off lights with no direction From the rep like Comp-town section, a fear from my complexion A fear from my erection, so they put me in corrections It's life in effect, the fact I'm trapped in my existence But even from my thousand yard distance I'm seeing right through you with that mad dog glance With that gangster's dance So we can sag them pants, come take a chance Would you like to dance in the infra-red drip like?.. (*Gun Shots*) ?? and 100 Spokes and don't make me loke It's Hots-to-the-Dolla baby, ain't no joke You plus my bank is poke, so I got to make a statement I'm on my third strike, I'm rolling on the bike I'm asking all you niggaz what that Comp-town like? Before I gots to pull a fire for that N.Y.
[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]
[Verse 3: Powerlord JEL] Man, the Ese's rolling shit, I know what's up I'm cold, heading back streets and ripping gangster cuts Ohh yes; I floss daily, fuck our represent And straight show, keeps my Ds on a hot cement And.. I'll tell your dealer Cali' ain't no joke Cause that smog on the West Coast is Indo smoke So don't slip for a second, and get played like a whore Ohh, don't make me bust in Pac-sive mode I enroll mad legal making mass appeal And you can ask anybody if my clique pack steel Cause no matter where I flow, brothers pay the cost And that's why they're gonna tell you that I can't be toast Man, you didn't know my music, didn't know my skin But you can win, listen to the the Mexicans So don't talk about me, cause I'll work you son But the crazy thing about it, I won't be needing my guns
[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]
[Verse 4: Ice-T] Busters can't even see the Ice, as I flex this You couldn't afford the Benz, so you had to buy the Lexus But how them pillars over fans that I ride on the weekend Lock me up, watch my custom drive, shaft vans square dumps in my trunk Lick it once, watch my front end fly, as I skate on by On them five twenties money, Titanium Scrape Plate Rock the ass like you blocked up, Show Nuff I got the cute trunk, hooked up with four pumps in the middle Hit your corner looking like a damn tricycle Hit the pancake, let the butter late on the drown And get on out the ride and clown With my homies on the corner in South Central, California You couldn't get more real if you wanna I'm gonna let you know that when I froze, just don't trip on gauze Front seat for my homies, back seat for the whores
[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
