[DJ Hurricane] East, West, check this out Check it, ye-yeah, ye-yeah East East, West West, South South..
[Chorus: DJ Hurricane] I got that East coast connect, West coast connect Dirty South connect, so show some respect When my niggaz comin through you see we comin correct Who are you, what you do, who you tryin to threat?
[Xzibit] I'm the wrong cat to call out; we fall out The police gon' have some dead bodies to haul out All out in the open for the world to see Avire-X to the Z-I, B-I-T V.I.P., you're small time, three on three cause you can't ball accurately, tackle the beast Stomp it down, slap it with heat, bitch behave Shit, we blaze to make a nigga act his age I'm tryin to write the phrase that pays You kick it with gays, dykes, and all type of wackness Preach what you practice Here we seperate the real niggaz from the actors A&R's, MC searchin, suck my cactus! Blackness surround your sight and sound as Xzibit hit you and you hit the ground My chips ain't never gon' be down, watch me smoke and flatline the first nigga to cross this line
[Chorus]
[Gipp] It's the Gipp Goodie, we kick the soul slang to yo' block, or they streets, we all gon' hang We like to shine and ride, bump corners in our bumper cars Top down, with the candy paint job Import export up and down the highway Old ladies transportin straight through the skyways In the corner in the five(?) I got purple haze Fat knot short sess with the tree ton(?) These streets we run, rapper refund You ridin up but we want yo' flows old like Girbauds We hold, everything it takes to create the odes to North to the West to the South again If it's war that you want just pull the pin Rules we don't break 'em, we refuse to bend If you don't build right you better take yo' ass home cause some catch stray bullets all alone
[Chorus]
[Pharoahe Monch] I got the Chevy Impala shit, street scholar with collarless, Japanese aikido with, Rottweiler mixed Top dollar dick now, swallow my whole nut rap Gun in my mouth, pop shit, still sayin, "Fuck that" You have to listen, brew, trapped in a tragic addiction Styles, multiply like Japanese mathematicians Cut cause chaos - my kicks kill criminals I'm the subliminal Adolf I'm the bomb that's attached to the time of a ticker figure or swastika Quicker to pick a form of execution, pull it Bullet, to the head instead of eletrocution The rambunctious, bump in yo' trunk shit Totally insane, Hurricane with Pharoahe Monch, Gipp Xzibit the West coast (??) (??) we got New York wearin slippers and the South wearin hoodies
[Chorus 3X]
[DJ Hurricane] Ye-yeah, uh-huh, ye-yeah Give it up, uh-huh (Dirty South) ye-yeah, ye-yeah Give it up, uh-huh, give it up, shake it Uh-huh, kick it (Dirty South) uh-huh Shake it.. uh-huh, shake it C'mon, give it up (Dirty South)
{*fades out*} Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
