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wc - like that lyrics

[intro: daz dillinger + wc]
clown, m-th-f-cka, clown
yeah (“check it out y’all”)
back in your m-th-f-ckin’ -ss once more (“check it out y’all”)
dub-c, cj mac, and ice cube, and diggy daz knocking down your door
crazy toones, what’s happening? yeah, break it down like that
show these n-ggas where their heart at
show these n-ggas where heart

[crazy toones scratching]
(“that’s right”) (“here i come”) (“mad m-th-f-ckin’ cm mac”)
(“here i come”) (“mad m-th-f-ckin’ cj mac”)
(“that’s right”)(“here i come”)(“mad m-th-f-ckin’ cj mac”)
(“it’s like that y’all, it’s like that y’all…it’s like that-uh-that-that”)
(“like that y’all, it’s like that y’all…”)(“and it goes a little something like this”)

[verse 1: cj mac]
10 years ago, a friend of mine
gave me a half a chicken, told me, “hoodsta, go grind”
bought a half a gallon, beaker, and a pound of pro
swear to god you n-ggas never see me short no more
from the southern cali alleyways to birds in virginia
mr. woo swoop the coupe on dubs, i ain’t bullsh-ttin’
flossy flossy, you droppin’ carachi
i got china white, now what you set like?
bling, look at my wrist, you see my diamonds done blinking
one stone, 7-karat ring, n-gga
cj mac, i swerve impalas, spend dollars, and floss jewels
i’m on cristal, bust a pistol, first boss move
you n-ggas hate me, but give me respect
and love head, known to keep a b-tch taco naked
punk biatch, i f-ck ‘em if she’s stealing me clothes
f-ck a misdemeanor b-tch and f-ck with felony hoes

[verse 2: daz dillinger]
now all of y’all are og’s
all my real n-ggas roll with these
we got something vicious up our sleeves
making n-ggas bleed dead in the street
for what you claim for the rep and the name
get looney insane, we tie ‘em to the brain
motto of tha gang: “we blast and maintain”
we got fame, status for flying, giving n-ggas static
making their m-th-f-ckin’ hearts so panicked
we back, cube, dub, cj mac
true indeed riders, punk, we westsiders
no other can divide us, make the barrel blow my fire
making all these sucker -ss n-ggas run and expire
like that, what it is, my opponents get shut ‘til the end
that’s how it is

[interlude: ice cube]
supreme gangsta sh-t
we dream gangsta sh-t
supreme gangsta sh-t
we dream gangsta sh-t

[crazy toones scratching]
(“ice cube…back up in this b-i-itch”)

[verse 3: ice cube]
the mega don, uh-huh, the episode
scrillions is what a n-gga fold
we meant it, rollin’ in tinted, the authentic
ghetto scented, we invented, highly recommended
go independent, and defend it
ain’t scared to throw up my dub and represent it (westside)
it’s beretta and mister mo’ cheddar
let ice cube rhyme last, n-ggas know better
see me in this godfather, you better tuck your tail
f-ck a b-tch dreams, n-ggas waiting too in h-ll
take a photo, n-ggas know, though
ice cube went from soul-glo to a f-ckin’ mogul
bet your hoe know we’s in town, fresh off con-air
gave a concierge cab fare, pullin’ hair, slappin’ t-tties
giving her sh-tties to new jack cities
delectable, rich and pretty

[crazy toones scratching]
(“like that y’all, it’s like that y’all…it’s like that-uh-that-that”)
(“like that y’all, it’s like that y’all, it’s like that-uh-that-that, it’s like that y’all”)
(“dub-c…back up in this b-i-itch”)

[verse 4: wc]
now what in the f-ck is this? c. mac, cube, daz
how would the f-ck i look letting y’all clown without me riding with y’all -ss?
take it up outta the cadillac, hittin’ front and back
talking sh-t on rings, tattoos and golf hats
last year was curb servin’, this year i’m counting stacks
with the don, the dillinger, me the k!ller, my n-gga c. mac blown off ‘gnac
strictly g’s, b-tch, no fleas in my clique
just n-ggas in colored beanies with that 7-digit itch
keep it rich, ‘cause gangsta rap sh-t, n-gga, i’m in love with it
stuck with it; if it ain’t that gangsta sh-t, i can’t f-ck with it
since the days of funkadelic, i’ve been giving it up
creasing these khakis, folding the tongue on these chucks
they say g’s keep the world spinning—well, if that’s true
picture me spinning the globe on my middle finger like meadowlark lemon
f-ck the world, i’m through with you bustas in ‘98
give me the p-ssy, the money, and the mic and i’m straight

[crazy toones scratching]
(“like that y’all…it’s like that y’all…it’s like that-uh-that-that, it’s like that y’all”)
(“like that y’all, it’s like that y’all, it’s like that-uh-that-that, it’s like that y’all”)

- wc lyrics

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