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ronnie ron - lil' somethin' from da westside lyrics

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verse 1: yg pimp d:

a lil’ somethin’ from the hood, punk biaitch!
yg pimp d, young gangsta, b+tch
now there’s a story to be told, about these young+ass g’s
how we f+cked up the mothaf+ckin’ rap industry
i got, rats on my nuts but i don’t give a f+ck
to the tick and to the tock, i’m gon’ pimp these sl+ts
some o’ that mean, b+tches, i have no love
dum+diddy+dum+dum+diddy+dum, get yo’ ass on
front, back, side to side, you know how we do it
hittin’ three+wheel motion, and i came woop woopin’
on a mothaf+ckin’ paper chase, through the westside
og inglewood known for the homicides
and to you lolly+ass n+ggas, i’ll take yo’ shady+ass b+tch
and bank yo’ busta+ass for talkin’ that, punk+ass sh+t
n+gga, how did you figure? you can’t talk sh+t
it ain’t no stoppin’ when i let loose, with that glock snitch
you better beware, of this mothaf+ckin’ young psycho
a tale from the westside, f+ck you hoes!

verse 2: lil’ ms. china:

but d+mn, here i am, cuttin’ up sh+t like seven grams
whoopin’ that ass ’til i make a, slam
dump, pump, pumpin’ slugs inside ya
my name is china, westside rider
where n+ggas is known to serve yo’ ass up and down
but when the top game goin’, then i go against drunk
that’s why i trust, no n+gga, i trust, no b+tches
and i put the drama sh+t, when a b+tch with the set trip
now when i’m ’bout to set it off, like a rocket to the sky
dismissin’ these fools then hit ’em up with the westside
so f+ck what you stressin’, ’cause nothin’ can save ya
and this is the season where your mama’s gonna grave ya
slave ya, b+tch, ’cause the c+h+i+n+a is here
the house with this kn+b in yo’ mouth
you know, that, you n+ggas can’t f+ck with this
and you just run outta your luck with this
no ditchin’ and dodgin’ tryna duck from this
’cause when i cast that ass up, you gettin’ buckwildin’
verse 3: tip toe:

comin’ off the top off the mothaf+ckin’ brain
you b+tches cannot hang, with this little dangerous n+gga from the bottom of the crypt
kickin’ a style that’s so wicked, you know we k!ll rickets
in the hood, just for fun, buck your gun, you get done
now as i slip, and i slide, slide but never slip
i’m from og inglewood, home, of the set trip
takin’ flight, through the air, like my n+gga 20 breed
you know who i be, t+i+p t+o+e
now the sh+t that i spit is beyond the ultimate
listen close, take a guess, i leave that ass, comatose
move to the left, move to the right, ooh sh+t, i’m outta sight
to you b+tches on my nuts, know that i don’t give a f+ck
about the sh+t that you say, i get back and just parlay
now as i woop, and i doop, off the block, with the glock
as i pump, as i drop, when you drop, when you drop
it’s the sk!lls on the real, so f+ck how you feel, biaaatch!

verse 4: lil’ hawk:

shootin’ up your mothaf+ckin’ turf, n+gga, get ready for a tossin’
b+tch+ass n+ggas be bumpin’ they gums but they be flossin’
ain’t nothin’, i’m by myself breakin’ ’em off somethin’
but i’m a gangsta, n+gga, you ain’t talkin’ about nothin’
i’m steady dumpin’ and pumpin’ and pump ‘fore you lie in yo’ ass
it’s godd+mn, and i ain’t givin’ up no passes
just cappin’ asses, and creepin’ up out my crypt and sh+t
and bring it on if you think you can f+ck with this
but you think so don’t even let it cross your mind
and get yo’ ass shot with this, n+ggety+nine
i’m cickity+comin’ all the way to the tickity+top
diggity+droppin’ a bomb ’cause you know it don’t stop
you gets mopped, glock, glock fulla yellow tape
you can run, you can hide, but yo’ ass can’t escape
from um this sh+t that i be hittin’ and kickin’ and spin with
shakin’ ’em down, i’m breakin’ ’em down, emptyin’ the whole clip
b+tch, and now you know how we hoo+ride
a lil’ somethin’ from the mothaf+ckin’ westside, biatch!



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