W.c. Rocks Lyrics - All Day Everyday - South Central Cartel

[ Young Prod ] 

What's up 

Cartel representin for all the real niggas that represent from both coasts 

East and west, nigga, like that 

To all you bitch-ass niggas dissin this gangsta shit 

Fuck y'all, no love 

What's up, Treach, Kay Gee, Vin-Rock 

Youknowmsayin, puttin it down 

Ill and Al Skratch 

All the west coast homies 

Knowmsayin? 

Let's rock 

[ Young Prod ] 

I felt the slaughter and thought I oughta rip off niggas' faces 

Interphase my razorblades, cause this is gangsta 

Collapse perhaps when a strap split you between your eyes 

40mm infrared beams, homicides 

.45's, .44 Desert Eagles to the skies 

Tec-9s, Mac-10s, the biggest to the smallest size 

And I ride these ghetto streets when I'm high 

L.A.C., S.C.C. d.o.g. and that's right 

I put that on my mama, I hears the drama from the bitch coast 

Killer, better feel a realer nigga from the west coast 

Now just suppose you was on the west coast 

And you got caught up in the drama with the baby locs 

You say it ain't real, but now you're feelin like a hoe 

Cause a nigga 13 done knocked yo ass to the flo' 

[ Rhimeson ] 

Now nigga, what's happenin, it's the cavi and the gee that see-ride 

My chest full of that doja, finna slug, hittin the thai 

The Hen got a nigga brain cells on nutty 

Come with a Tec, roll in a bucket, broke as fuck, yellin "Fuck it!" 

I'm hittin niggas up as I swerve down your block 

Yellin "Cartel", yo westside rider, it don't stop 

Put a slug in a nigga's ass like a see 

Knock him off like a d, beatin his ass like a tree 

Rhimeson regulatin more blocks than Fort Knox 

I'm the baddest batter parlayin clippin up yo blocks 

Drop-top storin glocks, and if the battery's hot, it's on 

Brigades that ice-skates and put marks in funeral homes 

The g shit won't quit, loc, as we dip through 

Loadin clips, fool, for your whole crew, yellin "Fuck you!" 

Gangstas, teams leavin hoes and toes frozen 

Tags in teams rollin and casket doors closin 

[ CHORUS ] 

[ Young Prod ] 

West coast niggas don't give a fuck 

So when you hear that milimeter bust, it be us 

Peepin how you're dissin, sayin our missions ain't real 

But when the Cartel's through, you bitch-ass niggas we gon' still... 

(Eastside niggas, Westside niggas) 

Now we finna show you how the west coast rocks 

(Westside niggas, Eastside niggas) 

Now we finna show you how the west coast rocks 

[ Prode'je ] 

Like Cube I'ma show you how the west coast rocks 

Put the clips in the glocks and let em go pop-pop 

Eastsider, S.C.G.'s, the representers of the gory 

Keep talkin that shit, you catch a flurry 

I bury muthafuckas, they call me Buckus, not Fuckus 

But I'm quick to put a rush on all you bustas 

Enough is enough is, now who's the fuckin roughest 

The toughest, and in the end, who's gonna need the crutches? 

I said it once before, and I respect the realer niggas 

The realer niggas pullin killer-triggas on the iggas 

It figures, cause who's the bigger niggas when it's payday? 

We parlay and give the props to niggas and what they say 

It's okay, cause gangstas movin deeper to the masses 

Others kissin asses, we comin with the blastes 

We smashes, and kickin at your asses like some stress is 

The gangstas puttin it down for the pound where the west is 

[ Young Prod ] 

When I'm in a low-low rollin slow mo' to the east 

I be a thief like Coolio and roll with 40 Thevz 

Gees in the backseat, clippin up the heat 

I'm leanin out the window, dumpin niggas yellin "Peace!" 

Release hollow-points, splittin between your joints 

Shots explode, eyes close, niggas get my point 

West coast niggas don't give a fuck 

So when you hear that milimeter bust, it be us 

Peepin how you're dissin, sayin our missions ain't real 

But when the Cartel's through, you bitch-ass niggas we gon' still... 

(Eastside niggas, Westside niggas) 

Now we finna show you how the west coast rocks 

(Westside niggas, Eastside niggas) 

Now we finna show you how the west coast rocks 

[ ? ] 

Now I came through the do', I said it befo' 

It's all about that west coast flow and the .44 

So get a grip, niggas dissin best to listen 

Fuck all you hooks, and I ain't talkin about fishin 

Got this mission that I'm completin, and niggas that I'm deletin 

And I'm heatin up your block with the Tec and the infrared glock 

Servin niggas with Mac-10 triggers 

The bigger the nigga size, the bigger the hole he lies in 

Cause that's the lifestyle I'm livin, so I express it in my raps 

For snaps and collapse fools with the straps 

Perhaps the west coast is too hardcore 

Kickin down your front do' with the infrared .44 

Like [name], but on a mission for props 

Everybody hit the flo', no beef no mo' 

[ ? ] 

Nigga, don't expect for us to let that shit ride on this side 

Yeah, you're safe at home, but over here you best to hide 

I'm capable of servin niggas problems with my heater 

I'm down to put the strap down to let my fist met ya 

Niggas don't want no problems now, nigga, you will get broke down 

Nigga, you find yourself dead on the ??? bound 

Cause I get so hot, niggas, you cannot stop me 

West coast comin hard, so your ass best to copy 

Sloppy-ass marks, y'all don't want to see me 

I throw heat on your ass and bust a cap, cause it's easy 

Keep it real 

[ CHORUS ]