Wassup Kay Slay, Its the big homie E A Ski
Ya know, And I brought some West Coast riders with me
That'll ride on ya bitch ass
You got a problem with Kay, You got a problem with us nigga
Ya know, Got MC Ren and the West Coast Kam
Nigga who tryin' to fuck with the Ville'
Grab my dick, Fuck this trick and slay my scrill
Slap the taste right outta ya grill
When I'm fuckin' with Kam and Ski nigga shit is fa real
Straight blastin' fools with these West Coast shots
Compton and Watts, My Bay niggaz got glocks
Niggas runnin' an yellin' an screamin' an shit an cussin'
Ren smoked a blunt while Ski and Kam was bustin'
Now you bitch ass niggas ain't sayin' nothin'
When we pull to the curb, Nigga stop gruntin'
This West Coast shit, can't be fucked with
Or duplicated, You bitches can hate it
Motherfucking villain is back with Ski
While he blast with his back to me
West Coast drive-by, it happens like everyday
Bitch ass motherfuckers gettin' chased away
That's them fuckin' police
Them bitches comin' for me
You know the West gone ride
Bitches run from the drive-by
That's them fuckin' police
Them bitches comin' for me
You know the West gone ride
Bitches run from the drive-by
I've been known for the AK, Glocks, and Tech's
Hit ya block up, Leave a nigga soakin' wet
So I'd watch niggas scatter like roaches with the lights on
You on the block, But you won't make it back home
You better hope that this bullet got God in it, (Pray)
And I miss, When I got my fuckin' eye on it
And I'm shootin' to blow the back and the spine out
It's all real, I would hate for you to find out
Who the fuck makes it happen
It's West Side nigga, This drive-by is what's crackin'
And the corners is gettin' caught off
The funeral homes is gettin' rich off the costs
Empty out the clips 'til you hear the (Click) sound
Uh-huh, You better know who the fuck you dealin' with, (Who's that)
It's Mr. Ski, The West Coast Kill-A-Bitch
Niggas hate me for the bank I'm foldin'
They just hate to see a gangsta rollin'
I gutter ball like I'm bowling, Collectin' my ends
Tryin' to throw strikes at all these redneck white pins
In the Beamer or the Benz, Wagon or the truck
Till my people delivered, Man I don't give a fuck
Stay pushin' the line with mine
Treat peeps I'm with good
Anti-Hollywood and I keep my shit hood
A true thug, Ya gotta admit it
I bail into a club tennis shoes, jeans, white tee and a fitted
Tryin' to get it crackin', whats up, I'm sayin'
You tryin' to go or what, I mean, you playin'
Dyke girls actin' like niggas, Niggas actin' like bitches
So I just kick back and keep stackin' my riches
Focus on my chips and give niggaz real talk
So bloods can skip to it and the Crips can still walk
That's them fuckin' police
Them bitches comin' for me
You know the West gone ride
Bitches run from the drive-by
You bitches run from the drive-by
Drive-by, Bitches run from the drive-by
