Check it out
All don`t G like we G
Evil side on the cut thang S.C.C.
Y`all don`t G...
[HAVIKK]
4 deep on the creep, I gots the heat on -
We swervin` whip to set trip, regulate your block
Turn the 6-4`s to low-low`s, bangin` for the West Coast
What`s next? Breakin fools necks like bad checks
Outrageous with 12 gauges, L.A. Times front pages
Leavin` mingled bodies hangin` on stages
Collapse fools with raps, peeelin` caps with straps
Twistin` off the bomb, my eyes are tighter than Japs
Rollin` evil with the evil side schemin`, Young Prod
Clipp`s the house, oh my God, a homicide!
Is about to be committed, admit it, we run thangs
Full Clipp from S.C., ready to ride and hoo-bang
Competin`, strangle the evil with low blows
Low low`s stay juiced on thick with hell of heat exposed
The S.C. script have a design to serve anydody
Yeah, West Coast is more feared than John Gotti
Chorus...
So what you gon` do when you see
Them West Coast G`s mobbin` 4 and 5 deep
And flossin` whips
Shake it, shake it babe, West Coast Gangstas 5 deep
And that`s killa...
[PRODEJE]
G manouvres, increasin` my retaliation
Real killers provoked could equal to your devastation
My motivation is lyrication, this philosophation
Acquired by the gangsta`s inspiration
Ready to loc, I`m smokin` tracks like it`s (blunted)
I`m frontin` `bout .44 mags and G rags
My khakis, t-shirt and Chucks stun ya
I zap you like a genie
You try to escape like Whodini
You plastic
I`m boombastic like that mutha... Shaggy
The Cartel keeps the groove nasty
You tried to fade, but got eleminated, tried the differential
But couldn`t fade the gangstas gettin` mental
Credential, compound exploding through hoods and towns
Breakin` it down, the G`s is makin` the world go round
It`s Mr. Prod comin` cutthroat, live like a wire
The West Coast G`s is on fire
Chorus...
[??? & YOUNG PROD]
Freestylin` to a instrumental, in a rental
Q-fo`-fever, evil side finna leave ya
Whole hood leakin, blood seekin` for the weekend
Headhuntin like a dome-servin` freak and
Mental scheme we G`s this, we locs like that
We grab Macs and reacts to open marks` backs
Welcome to the dome of terror, the era of the Evil Side
Lay fools out in rhymes like drive-by`s
Come, come, test this, let`s just
See yo` face taste ??? then just this
No mistakin, not fakin in the field, we`re money-makin`
We grab the g`s, get the ki`s and we shake it
It ain`t too easy to find me
Young Prod run games like Jumanji
My 9 blow minds everytime I dump
Takin` bastards` chests out and lump
Evil Side, serve a whole click from the back to the front
Don`t front, so where ya at?
In the back of the homie`s `Lac
Cockin` a strap, finna take the funny style off the mat
I got your back - back at ya, gangsta
Pull the triggers, slugs to bastards` mugs
Forever Evil Side, straight bangers
Chorus...
