Cross Em Out And Put A K song by Westside Connection from Primary Album Album not found. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Gangsta Rap, Hardcore Rap, Diss music. The Record company is unknown. Released on None.
The video content came from: Youtube
Cross Em Out And Put A K Meaning
| [[Intro: Ice Cube] Brrrgh! Ay! Ay! In about four seconds, a gangsta will begin to speak [Verse 1: Mack 10] Well it’s the mad chickenhawk with the dirty lick style Been pullin 211’s ever since TaDow It’s ten million ways to die, choose it Mack will hit the loop and loose it Off this gang-bang music Slaughter water got the room stunk I smoke and make dough like Trump Cookin’ powder till they chunk, punk! Straight off dust, nigga trust I’ll bust And cross ’em out and put a’K if they ain’t down with us [Verse 2: Ice Cube] It’s off the hook, nigga, I’m a Westside crook, nigga Put 40 motherfuckin’ dollars on my books, nigga I’m not a MC, I’m not a G I mean I’m A-to-fuckin’-Z and everythang in between Rappers like gangbangin’, ’cause I’m in it to the fullest And my hood ain’t never dodging bullets It’s all about the Bloods and Crips, dogs and rips Corners and dips, bitches and chips, nigga! , [Verse 3: WC] Do-do-do-do-do-do What’s this? My frickeler radar system Detects busta B-I-itches on the premises Niggas be dissin’ on a down low So now my motto’s “Fuck every rapper from the East and the West Coast” New School, Old School, I hate you motherfuckers I’m steady plottin’, wipin’ my ass with your album covers Cross ’em out and put a’K Even on Sundays nigga, to mothafuckin’ holidays [Hook] Hey! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! , [Verse 4: Mack 10] Goddamn nigga! This shit make me sick All these West Coast cowards ridin’ New York dick (Brrgh!) Bustas get sprayed wearin high-top fades And Kangol’s backwards with dark-ass shades No switchblades, nigga, we shoot That’s how it is on the West when you’re true to your roots So kill the action, punk, hoochie bitches clown Nigga get your sag on and keep your pants legs down [Verse 5: Ice Cube] Check it! Ho shut your mouth and get naked! I’m Connected and ain’t no bitches singin on this record No R&B tracks, just niggas on wax Kickin’ facts with these gang-bang raps Every nigga in the industry wanna rap with me Like it’s all good, you ain’t from my hood Nigga, I don’t even like your shit, I don’t like your crew I’m true, you’re through, nigga fuck you! [Verse 6: WC] Nigga get on, this shit is wack Fuck that, I bust you in the can with a motherfuckin bumper jack Spit on ya, shit on ya, when I get on ya, piss on ya Going up in ya, fucking ya, cause I ain’t lovin none of ya And even female rappers are getting smacked Stabbed in the titties and kicked in the back ‘Cause I’m a westside Connection hoodsta Far from a lover dishing nothing but bullets and dirty rubbers , [Hook] Ey! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ey! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! [Ice Cube] Brrrgh! In about four seconds, a killa will begin to speak [Verse 7: Mack 10] Now you can cross out the bustas and snitches B-Real and Ms. Muggs is like Hollywood bitches From the niggas I know in the streets I run through Swear to god bitch real it ain’t one dog that know you (not one) So watch what you say, who ya talk about, you tweekin And keep hogs out’cha mouth when ya bitch ass is speakin I’m sick wit it, cap at your dome till I hit it This Westside Connection, Cypress know they can’t fuck with it [Verse 8: Ice Cube] Use to get kisses and hugs, now I’m servin ya slugs Fuck B-Real and Muggs, y’all niggas ain’t no fuckin thugs To your surprise, everybody dies From Columbian neck ties covered with flies Ya fuckin maggots, ya fuckin faggots I should alert you, every motherfucker that I know wanna hurt you So when I pull my spray can to spray I’m sprayin C-H-K all motherfuckin day [Verse 9: WC] I once knew this bitch by the name of Q-Tip Who claim he got a problem with this gangsta shit Behind closed doors, runnin’ his mouth like a trick and ‘Til this nigga by the name of Dub caught him slippin’ Tied his ass up and threw him in the trunk Put a apple in his mouth then dug his ass out About a month later they found his body stashed In a trash bag with a cucumber in his ass [Hook] Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! Ay! I Cross ‘Em Out and Put a ‘K! Inglewoooood! Nigga! To South Central L.A.! [Ice Cube] Don’t go chasin’ waterfalls Stick to them dicks and balls you’re used to Punk ass motherfuckers! Brrrrgh!] |
