作词 : Dedrick D. Rolison/O'Shea Jackson Sr./William Calhoun 作曲 : Dedrick D. Rolison/O'Shea Jackson Sr./William Calhoun Westside! Microphone check 1-0 from the West Coast bailer and teller I cuss like a sailor When you see her she's a goner, moved to California Blew the ***** up and put the gangsta twist on her Sunny Southern Cal, it never snows N*ggas yellin' 'hey's and 'ho's We jumpin' outta 6-4's When it comes to the gun play, we vets It's West Coast for life, no crews, only sets Well, it's the dog, breathin' out the smog I'm a hog of this gangsta sh*t, Don of the clique All you suckas wanna diss the Pacific But you buster n*ggas never get specific Used to love her, mad 'cause we f*cked her P*ssy-whipped ***** with no Common Sense Hip-hop started in the West Ice Cube bellin' through the East without a vest Now as I look to my riz-zight and to my left I see motherf*ckers staring like they wanna step So I'm grabbin' my rusty screwdriver In case I got to cut ya deeper than Vanessa Del Rio's ****** Find a-notha crew of n*ggas that can f*ck with this Lyrical bully, given verbal bruises to crews, fool You must be on d*ck, d*pe and dynamite. How you figure? Speed on before you get peed on, n*gga Fool, what side is you, red or the blue? Wild as the L.A. Zoo, it's round two I ignite, grab the mic tight, strike like a rattle Bring your rhymes and nines to the muthaf*ckin' battle So sun down to sun up, run up with my gun up All brakes get to pumpin', you know a n*gga dumpin' You dread like a Rasta when I lock like a terrier Mack 10, that n*gga with the heat that'll bury ya Oh ah, oh ah, do a walk by, and watch everybody die N*ggas into gangs, thangs and narcotic Freak *****es, riches, and hydraulics Pull heat, knock you off your feet Clear the whole block, both sides of the street Even Crips and Bloods hear my thuds Fee fie foe fum—ay n*gga, where you from? (Westside!) F*ck all you n*ggas, I'm yellin' This is M.A.A.D. Circle to the fullest everybody 187 Toones play the piano, f*ck a battle I'm socking rappers like mad man Santiago 'Cause you n*ggas ain't impressin' me Plus you signed to Big Red Records, so n*gga, f*ck what you tellin' me Sit down junior, you couldn't see me if you wanted to Look ya'll, it's Mack 10, Cube and the "W" Westside's on the map! N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold! Westside's on the map! N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold! I just had a scrap for the neighborhood Inglewood stereotype, gotta deal with the hype Known to kick back with the fat sack, f*ck that Where my gat at? These n*ggas trippin' off my Bulls hat About to let loose with the chrome trey-deuce Five shot, and I, put holes in your bandana I push a Benz, you still rollin' G's So n*gga miss me with that set trippin', start slangin' keys When I say gitchy-gitchy, n*ggas get *****y-*****y 'Cause they heard of the natural born murderer I'm like Frankenstein, it's spankin' time Layin' in the sunshine with only one nine So who wants to bust with the never-rust? Goin' platinum plus, every time I cuss So f*ck the whole world, black (F*ck 'em!) N*ggas better hope I don't grow my jheri-curl back Step up, murderer, steppin' out a Chevrolet Sportin' a beanie like Marvin Gaye Stalkin', walkin' in my big black Chucks Standin' tall in your freestyle session holdin' my ***** I'm peepin' game like a ref in '95 'Cause n*ggas be foul and bitin' other n*ggas' styles But if you're bitin' this, you better bring a dentist 'Cause sucking these *****'ll give your a*s lockjaw, fool Which way shall I go? N*gga, what should I do? Should I bang with the red or should I truce with the blue? Should I rock d*pe beats, and grab the mic and stay down? Or should I shoot out of town and flip this pound? Sh*t I never thought that my ****'a get bigger Checkin' major figures, I'm hangin' with platinum n*ggas It's Mack 10 and I'm Inglewood swingin' No time for bangin', but still got my khakis hangin' F*ck one love, it's the bloody glove, killin' honkey hoes Leaving blood stains on Broncos In a Hertz rental, I drive on the 405 Is he dead or alive? Mother-f*ck court, took another snort Jumpin' over chairs as I run through the airport So I can catch a flight away from the drama Number 32 chillin' in the Bahamas Ah, Shucky Ducky, quack quack N*ggas ain't knowin' how to act Sucka ducks play the back N*ggas used to diss but now it's turning around And like Brandy, motherf*ckers wanna be down with this West Coast rap game, I can give a f*ck If you wasn't down at first, you can buck these **** Transformers get stole on (BOOM) Get the picture, killa Cali, home of the body bags, n*gga Westside's on the map! N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold! Westside's on the map! N*ggas rappin' since the '70s and still never went gold!