Cifra Club

Walk

Westside Connection

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Get you a bitch up on the floor
You gotta get up and get down (walk!)
You gotta get up and get down (walk!)

To the west, march
Bang, crease the starch
Uh oh, here we go again
Off the chain, that dub sc gang
State yo name

Ice cube motherfucker

What's your name

Mack 10 motherfucker

Well bang on, swang on
Cause on mine I'ma g on, dub c let a scene on
Get my green on, with my white sling on
Weather my rag in, with my khakis cuffed and dragging
Three wheels, make the heat squeal
This westcoast shit is the shit that we built
Who wanna bust with or fuck with him, and confess
Y'all can't fuck with it, I'm out the roof with it, bang loose with it
Dub c, from that dub sc
Fo sho to make ya peeps slang off the cheese man

Walk, walk
Niggas let me see you walk
Walk, walk
Bitches let me see you walk
To the west, march
Calling all cars, niggas look hard
Near park cars, after dark
Getto star

Ice cube motherfucker, I represent this
Don't mistake the masked up for the apprentice
All you bitch ass niggas are defenceless
Like a catholic priest, and bout ten kids
It's sunday school, I run you fools
You ain't gone do shit
I got the flip shit, to plant
Spit it like I'm gone spit it
Niggas wanna get it, but they won't admit it
I'm connected and committed
All the way bided, while you bullshitted
I'm on exhibit, like a pit-bull off the chain
Motherfuckers gone flip out, ropes get ripped out
Niggas gone trip out, crip out, get a four-fifth out
Get bout, with a brick-house, with my dick out saying fuck ya
My whole career, I kept it gangsta and hustla

It's for the ghetto and the gutter every-time I spit
For niggas that walk off that funkadelic shit
I just might go psycho, and grab the automatic
And let one off for the gangbang addicts

Cause I'm westside connected like a hand in the glove
And I'm the gangsta rap nigga that the d-boys love
Hopped out braided and valetd in the front of the club
I hit the do' niggas speak, I hit em up with a dub

And even on the east coast, I rep hoo bangin
Iced out, creased khakis with a red flag hanging
Fin to bust a bitch to give head, that's eating the jaw
And if I let my hair down, all the hoes all hoes

Get ya hood, ya polo, ya tribe, ya?
And ain't no niggas in the game that can beat this group
Mack 10 and connect, is the hood I claim
We do the damn thang, and it's off the chain

To the west, march
Calling all cars, niggas look hard
Near park cars, after dark
Get toe start

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