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steve behr - westside gunn lyrics

[intro: westside gunn]
brr, brr
doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
brr, brr, brr, brr, brr, brr, brr
ayo

[verse 1: westside gunn]
ayo, pump in the amiris got me walkin’ up bow*legged
free sly (free sly), tell the feds free my oldhead
your [?] pathetics, speed had ’em like our way (our way)
the crackhouse doorbell ring, god day
we only got twenties, bring nineteen, you dead (ah, dead, n*gga)
i don’t give a f*ck if you got nineteen*fifty, n*gga
get the f*ck out of here with that bullsh*t
i got the best sh*t, n*gga

[verse 2: rome streetz]
ayo, you a dollar late and day short
everyday, divide the dollar and servin’ cutties sh*t that they snort
it was off*white, now back to rockin’ rugby with that race horse
half a gram for a virgil, have a blast and lift your face off
like scott storch, this sh*t that i produce be the muy bueno
late nights like leno, i was movin’ elbows out the rental
i’m lit with rap, that ain’t coincidental
i seen a n*gga take five acid tabs, that sh*t fried his mental
son ain’t been the same since, seen him the other day
i let him hold somethin’, i’m real, won’t look the other way
the streets’ll take you, but won’t bring you back, that’s what my mother say
run off with the pack, then your brother pay
blast the bushmaster at his beanie, my billys blazin’ like turkey day
do the wonder, coldest sh*t in the verses that i display
at the top, it’s really rome and gunn, the comp is miles away
my style is gunpowder in the crack vial, the don is great
do you dirty for dollars, the goonies gon’ relate
the b*tch mouth in my lap like the print on the bape
f*ck outta here, n*gga
[outro]
[?]
griselda by fashion rebels

- westside gunn lyrics

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