Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Don't Get Outta Pocket, artist - Westside Connection. Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Don't Get Outta Pocket |
| We live in la la, We smokin la la |
| Fuck wit the da, Boo boo ba ba |
| Nigga, Ha ha! |
| Get outta pocket, We might just whup yo ass |
| Pull out a rocket, We might just take yo cash |
| And when I cock it, We might step out and blast |
| But we ain’t gon let that bullshit pass |
| I used to be a young phenom, Like lebron |
| Now I’m doin shit beyond, Geghis Kahn |
| Peon, You can’t pass on deon |
| The best rapper in the world ain’t a european |
| Look, Respect my gangsta, Nigga obey |
| And I been rich since my first pro day, Ask O’Shea |
| West ridin is my fotay |
| And will the hustle ever stop? |
| Nigga, No way |
| Niggas can’t fuck wit dub s c |
| Gang related and leavin 'em leakin like stds |
| C-Walkin out of the sc, Lettin the tech breathe |
| Till I rest in peace, Dub gon rep these streets |
| K Mac is the one, Nigga fuck neo |
| No love, Hit 'em up with the dub wherever we go |
| My game so cold, The hoes call me sub zero |
| Oh, You know that nigga pimpin ken? |
| That’s my hero |
| It’s catastrophic when I stop it |
| Atomic, Demonic, And off that chronic |
| It’s Ironic, How I flip them phonics |
| So fucked up, The product of reaganomics |
| Shit, I heard the price of yo done went up |
| My gun buddy had a drop, So the pistola went up |
| The heater hot, Nigga burn ya skin up |
| The fo fifth hold a dime, And I shoot all ten up |
| I’m about guns, Fuck roses, I breeze over parole |
| Some man captured some folks, The locstas never fold |
| Bacon soda aromas, Niggas swingin chrome motors |
| Dickey bombin folks and shootin out of stolen automotives |
| I got diamonds on my fingers and watch on arms |
| Stay out a nigga way and you won’t be harmed |
| If I catch a bitch, I’ll see for sure she’ll be charmed |
| When I’m rollin through the hood, A nigga heavily armed |
| Shit, My life is like a rap show |
| I’m out the back door, Beyatch, So beware of the strap, Bro |
| Cause that’s how my blast go |
| Ice cube is an asshole just like castro |
| Nigga, I spit Flames, Leave permanent scars |
| Connect gang bang and we g’s about ours |
| And ain’t shit changed, Still stripes and stars |
| And I’m done already, Ain’t got but 4 bars |
| Holdin it down down down stoned down bustin rounds |
| Dub, Ghetto rich nigga since bow down |
| Squad down, Sendin flicks to my niggas locked down |
| Doin dolas in streets wit my ragtop down |
| Yo, Write a book bout a nigga like me |
| I got loot like an athlete just signed wit nike |
| You lose ya life if ya ever get sheisty |
| Could mac ever run out of snaps? |
| Not likely |