Cross 'em Out and Put a 'K Lyrics

In about four seconds,a gangsta will begin to speak
Well it's the mad chickenhawk with the dirty lick style
And pullin 211's ever since TAA-DOOW
There's ten million ways to die
Choosin Mack and hit the boopin floosin
Off this gang-bang music
So all I'd want to got the room stumped
I'm smokin,make dough like Trump
Cookin ??? to they chunk,punk!
Straight off dust,n**** trust I bust
And cross em out and put a'K if they ain't down with us

It's off the hook,n****,I'm a Westside crook,n****
The forty m*********** dollars on my books,n****
I'm not an MC,I'm not a G
I mean I'm A-to f*****-Z and everything in between
Rappers like g*******in 'cause I'm in it to the fullest
And my hood ain't never dodgin bullets
It's all about the Bloods and Crips,no one tri-ips
Colours and dips,b****** and chips,n****!

What's this my ??? low-grader system
That takes puff be -I-itches on the premises
n**** be dissin on a down low
So now my motto's:"f*** every rapper from the East and the West Coast"
New School,Old School,I hate you m************
I'm steady plottin,cracklin my a** wit'cha album covers
Cross em out and put a'K
Then no Saint days,n****,then run the f***** holidays

*Chorus [3x]: Ice Cube, Mack 10, WC*
'Ey! I Cross 'Em Out and Put a 'K!
n****! To South Central L.A.!

g****** n****!This s*** make me sick
All these West Coast cowards ridin New York beat(Brrgh!)
Busters get sprayed wearin high-top fades
And Cango's backwards with dark-a** shades
No switchblades,n****,we shoots
That's how it is on the West when you're true to your roots
So kill the action,punk,hootchie b****** clown
n**** get your sag on and keep your pants legs down
Check it!Ho shut your mouth and get naked!
I'm Connected and ain't no b****** singin on this record
No R&B tracks,just n***** on wax
Kickin facts with these gang-bang raps
Every n**** in the industry want to rap with me
Like it's all good,you ain't from my hood
n****,I don't even like your s***,I don't like your form
I'm true,your through,n**** f*** you!

n**** get off,this s*** is wacked
f*** that,I bust you in the can with a m*********** propajack
Spit on ya,s*** on ya when I get on your p***il
You're goin up and your f***** 'cause I ain't lovin none of ya
And even the female rappers are gettin smacked
Stabbed in the t****** and kicked in the back
'cause I'm a westside Connection hista
Bored from a lover dishin nothin but (?foolers?) and dirty rubbers


In about four seconds,a killa will begin to speak
Now you can cross out the busters and snitches
be -Real and Miss Muggs is like Hollywood b******
From the n***** I know in the streets I run through
Swear to god b****,real it ain't one dog and no(body)
So watch what you say,who ya talkin bout,ya tweakin
And keep hogs out'cha mouth when ya b**** a** is speakin
I'm sick wit it,cappin'cha dome till I hit it
This Westside Connection,Cypress know they can't f*** with it

Use to get kisses and hugs,now I'm servin ya slugs
f*** be -Real and Muggs,y'all n***** ain't no f***** thugs
Be all surprised,everybody dies
From Columbian neckties covered with fright
Ya f***** maggots,ya f***** f*****s
I shoulda hurt you,every m*********** that I know want to hurt you
So when I pull my spray-can to spray
I'm sprayin see-H-K all m*********** day

I once knew this b**** by the name of Q-Tip
Who claim he had a problem with this gangsta s***
Behind closed doors,runnin his mouth like a trick-in
Till this n**** bout the name of Dove caught him slippin
Tied his a** up and threw him in the truck
Put an apple in his mouth and dug his a** out
I ??? ??? lead him then down his body stashed
In a trash bag with a cue-cover in his a**


Don't go chasin waterfalls
Stick to them d***s and b**** you're used to
Punk a** m************!
Report lyrics