Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Str8 Westcoast, artist - Knoc-Turn'al. Album song LA Confidential Presents Knoc-Turn'al, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.06.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Elektra
Song language: English
Str8 Westcoast |
Super ugly |
Mr X to tha Z |
Yeah, Warren |
LA indo, gangster and mack mo |
Bullets at your window, dangerous |
Ruthless, hostile, unforgiven, who gave you permission |
To try to stop me from livin', huh? |
Try again faggot |
You’ve gotta ride better than that |
To move out in front of the pack, it’s two thousand and two |
My backpack raps got my backpack |
Strapped and filled with plaques |
I ain’t relaxed or laid back at home with my feet up |
I drop Pravda, lock and load, heat the streets up |
You weak fuck |
Shakin' and dancin' |
Y’all takin' pills, we takin' penitentiary chances |
I’m too advanced is |
Never the same when I hit it and quit it |
You want it come get it, I’m wit' it |
When I say that I’m wit' it |
That means I got a main defense team that’s gon' get me acquitted |
G’s is walkin' out the courtroom like George Jefferson |
Stop the interviewin', the faggot had it comin' to him |
Warren G |
What y’all thought, I wasn’t gonna return with a hit |
Too much smokin' that Sherman shit |
I learnt this from the best that got y’all sprung |
The, the doctor Andre Young |
Compton, LB, ain’t nothing y’all can tell me |
Goin' hard on the yard till my dogs bail me |
They tells me I can’t proceed wit' it |
I came back and got Warren G wit' it |
West coast, still smoking on that indo |
Smoke, oh no, don’t pretend, oh no |
I woulda came but I was dead broke, no mo |
I’m rollin' on some real, oh no |
'Bout to get it, but niggas trip though, let’s go |
I’m the realest and they all know real dope |
You need a filter or you will choke, indo |
That’s all a nigga will smoke, oh no |
Now, niggas better get between their door, door |
I’m shakin' all your shit onto the floor |
And niggas don’t get it |
But be careful what you ask for you just might get it |
Yo the undisputed middle weight champ runnin' like Hopkins |
Clap six to ya shins niggas start hoppin', Shiest never stoppin' |
In other words, if your click full |
Can’t press mute and it don’t apply now |
I’m feelin' funny in the tummy |
And a nigga ain’t been eatin' for weeks, I’m sick |
I ain’t trying to get no better but rather |
Infect the world leavin' Vicks in a old sweater |
Knoc’s landin', tell me if it ain’t me, who got the best planin'? |
Who got your ears tuned it and who keeps you listenin'? |
Who gots your undivided attention? |
Who makes your panties wet, girl? |
Hold up, pause, which nigga on TV |
That you see makes you wanna give up the draws |
At parties and shows, I mash regardless |
Yo hardest flows couldn’t stop this bombardment |
I clench the vision till there’s no room for expansion |
All prepared for war it’s Knoc’s landin' |
A nightly stalker, in shadows I walk |
Mindin' my own while haters throw soft |
The more I succeed, the more bitches clock |
Through my peripheral vision, I watch subconsciously |
Waitin' to introduce you to tragedy see it’s Knoc’s landin' |