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RAS KASS : West Coast Mentality lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

RAS KASS lyrics : "West Coast Mentality"

[Ras Kass]
Strike three, hehe
It's-just-thug-men-tal-i-ty, ^!$$%..

Ha, YEAHHH, ha, yeah-YEAHHH, uh-uhh, uhh..

Ras Kass register Richter with nine point eight tectonic plate quakes

Firm rubber no breaks, California plates Golden State
Catch me sittin on the roof, bumpin Snoop
"Gin and Juice" reminiscin bout the rides and gang truce

Seventy degrees in the winter - tropical weather
and vendettas cause L.A. ^!$$%z be all about they cheddar
Hoochie (*##$es and B.G.'s too big for they britches

Curb servin, they double up to get richer
$#&@ around them lil' ^!$$%z comin to get'cha and get wit'cha
Dump until six hit'cha, don't let the sunshine and palm trees

fool you get the picture, ^!$$%z be in Hollywood thinkin it's all good
But everything South of Wilshire, is all hood
^!$$%z committin murder

Later that night at Tommy's eatin a chili-cheese burger
Menace II Society, seen that
Kobe and Shaq - Lakers bout to bring the championship ring back

From Ladera Heights to Venice Beach
Dime pieces with BMW leases and Cartier timepieces
I was born to raise West coast til my casket drop

Throw up a dub, spittin at the camera like 'Pac, ptooey

[Chorus x2: Ras Kass]

Would y'all get down for me, I'ma represent my town
so y'all represent y'all town for me

If a G's gettin made, put it down with me
Homey that's a West Coast Mentality

[Ras Kass]
Three-hundred and ten angels, flossin nine-hundred and nine fdangles[?]
Two-hundred and thirteen sets to gangbang too

Three-hundred and twenty-three hungry homies want steak
Never been greedy, if I ate/eight, one-eight (donate)
So if I gotta choose a coast, I got to choose the West

Born and raised out there, so don't - go there
Oh yeah, I'm the illest ^!$$%, clownin y'all fools
with everything y'all say like Luther Luffeigh

I swoop through L.A. hoe, bendin y'all (*##$es like clay dough
$#&@ what you say doe, these streets are fatal pendejo
So everywhere I go I take West coast with me

Home of the driveby, Thug Life and dickies
What you know about silk shirts (huh?)
Cross corded snakeskin belts, flippin off the front porch

Lesson number one - ^!$$%z don't give a $#&@
and lesson number two remember lesson number one


[Ras Kass]

See in L.A., ^!$$%z don't walk, ^!$$%z drive whips with beats
Weak ^!$$%z trick, most ^!$$%z say (*##$es ain't %#@!
but hoes gotta eat too, they all be at Club Lingerie

with a gay down to meet you
But $#&@ a three-piece suit
Y'all ^!$$%z dressin like y'all goin to church

Either me and my homies get in lookin like this or we skert
(errrrrrrrrr) and if they bull%#@!tin, we just parkin-lot pimpin'
Sunday night, Jamaican gold, hip-hop and cheeba

Tuesday lesbian divas be up in Peanuts (what)
I be $#&@in baby girl and her stud
Plus she said my dick was big, my %#@! be up in the gut

Waittress (*##$ tryin to front like we broke, "Whattup loc?"
Give me a Henn' and O.J. without slashin Nicole's throat
C-arson ^!$$%, I'm just the illest emcee

All California Love, rest in peace Bigga B.

[Chorus x2]

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