Lyrics
Let me do some shit with my niggas from the CPT, ha ha
You ready Eiht?
Yeah, c’mon
I was born to ride, bang and pack heat
Got turned out early by the scandalous freaks
Addicted to crime so I stay in the mix
With a love for hoochie chicks and pullin jewelry licks
Moms said, «Mack, baby watch for danger»
I said, «Momma don’t you know I’m a real gangbanger?»
I can’t switch over night and be good
And I’ll be damned if a nigga turned his back on the hood
So I walked out the door, hopped in the Regal
Twistin triple gold with the all black Eagles
Got a deuce, fired at Scoop’s, I need a gat
So I stopped and got the Tech from my G-homie Wreck (whatup)
He said, «Mack, don’t slip dog, u gotta stay heated
And here’s the extra clip in case you might need it»
Get the eighty eight skate, ang get your slide on
Throw the Hoo-Bang plaque in the back and your ride on
Ride for me, I’mma ride for you
You Hoo-Bang, I Hoo-Bang, so we all a crew
Get yo ride on, get yo slide on, who the best
Nobody rides like these killas from the west
Ride for me, I’mma ride for you
You Hoo-Bang, I Hoo-Bang, so we all a crew
Get yo slide on, get yo ride on, who the best
Nobody rides like these killas from the west
1, 2, 3, and to the 4
Eazy muthafuckin E with the chrome to your dome
Cruisin in my 6−4 rag top
I got a lot of juice, a lot of fuckin block
Now when I hit that switch I’m bouncin
More Bounce to the Ounce and I’m clownin
Keep the gat in my lap cuz I’m fully strapped
For the car jackers, but no haps cuz I pack a
Tech 9, plus a A-K 47
Send a one way ticket to my hell or maybe heaven
Peep, nigga I don’t sleep
Bury muthafuckas in the concrete
You try to creep kinda slow in a Astro
But I peep you niggas out in my left window
So I blast and I blast till I blast no more
Yo, they call a motherfucker John Doe
Real thugs roll cuz the Westside’s sick
Which enemy depicts to catch the 9 clip
Slick, but not like Rick, the gang story
G’s kill and ain’t shit funny like Joe Torre
Don’t make me laugh cause I’m on the wrong the path
Catch the blood bath, it’s the aftermath
Slang strike to make money, now ain’t that simple?
Y’all silly niggas wearin' vests but we aim for the temple (brrrrrrr)
Watch my nigga’s back, who sacked the yayo
Keep the calico with extra ammo
So and so gets blasted, to the casket
Never seen these westside G’s face, we masked it
Ya’ll best be defeat and be discreet
Catch the hot heat from across the street
Take me in the dump schools that, wanna push me
Retaliation, straight better than hittin' pussy
Ugh, MC Eiht in the muthafuckin house
(yeah, Hoo-Bang one time)
Yeah, ha
(Hoo-Bang two times)
Rest in peace Eazy E
(the hiphop thugsta)
(yeah)
Fa sho
(Mack Dime)
Come on, ugh
(all day baby, all day baby)
WESTSIDERIDERS! Ugh