Westside Slaughterhouse

[Intro: Ice Cube]
Westside!

[Verse 1: Mack 10]
Microphone check 1-0
From the West Coast bailer and tell her, I cuss like a sailor
When you see her, she’s a goner, moved to California
Blew the bitch up and put the gangsta twist on her
Sunny Southern Cali, it never snows
Niggas yellin' "HEY’S!" and "HO'S!" (Woooo!)
We dumpin’ outta 6-4's
When it comes to gun play, we vets (Argh!)
It's West Coast for life — no crews, only sets

[Verse 2: Ice Cube]
Well, it's the dawg! Breathin' out the smog
I'm a hog of this gangsta shit! Don of the clique!
All you suckas wanna diss the Pacific
But you busta niggas never get specific
Used to Love H.E.R., mad ‘cause we fucked a
Pussy-whipped BITCH with no Common Sense!
Hip-hop started in the West!
Ice Cube bailin' through the East without a vest

[Verse 3: WC]
Now, as I look to my riz-ight, and to my left
I see muthafuckaz starin' like they wanna step
So I'm grabbin' my rusty screwdriver
In case I gotta cut ya deeper than Vanessa Del Rio's vagina
Find a-nother crew of niggas who can fuck with this
Lyrical bully givin' verbal bruises to crews!
Fool, you must be on dick, dope and dynamite — how ya figure?
Speed on before you get peed on, nigga! (Yeah!)

[Verse 4: Mack 10]
Fool, what side is you? Red or the blue? (Who?)
Wild as the L.A. Zoo, it's round two
I ignite, grab the mic tight, strike like a rattle (Ahh!)
Bring your rhymes and 9's to the muthafuckin' battle (Woo-ooh!)
So sun-down to sun-up, run up with my gun up
All brakes get to pumpin', you know a nigga dumpin'
You dread like a Rasta when I lock like a terrier
Mack 10 — that nigga with the heat that'll bury ya

[Verse 5: Ice Cube]
(Oh-I, oh-I...) Do a walk by, and watch everybody die!
Niggas into gangs, thangs and narcotics
Freak bitches, riches and hydraulics
Pull heat! Knock you off your feet!
Clear the whole block, both sides of the street!
Even Crips and Bloods hear my thuds
Fee-fie-foe-fum! Ay, nigga, where you from?! (Westside!)

[Verse 6: WC]
Fuck all you niggas, I'm yellin'!
This is M.A.A.D. Circle to the fullest, everybody 187 (Yeah)
Toones play the piano, fuck a battle!
I'm sockin' rappers like mad man Santiago (Arghh!!!)
‘Cause you niggas ain't impressin' me
Plus you signed to Big Red Records, so nigga, fuck whatcha tellin' me! (Uh!)
Sit down, junior, you couldn't see me if you wanted to
Look, ya'll — it's Mack 10, Cube and the W!

[Hook x2: Ice Cube & (Mack 10)]
Westside’s on the map!
(Niggas rappin’ since the ‘70s and still never went gold!)

[Verse 7: Mack 10]
I just had a scrap for the neighborhood Inglewood stereotype
Gotta deal with the hype
Known to kick back with the fat sack, fuck that!
Where my gat at? These niggas trippin’ off my Bulls hat (Oooh!)
About to let loose with the chrome tré-deuce
Fire shot and I, put holes in your bandana
I push a Benz, you still rollin' G's
Nigga, miss me with that set-trip and start slangin' keys

[Verse 8: Ice Cube]
When I say gitchy-gitchy! Niggas get bitchy-bitchy
‘Cause they heard of the Natural Born Murderer
I'm like Frankenstein, it's spankin' time
Layin' in the sunshine with only one 9
So who wants to bust with the never-rust?
Doin' platinum plus every time I cuss
So fuck the whole world, black! (Fuck ‘em!)
Niggas better hope I don't grow my jheri-curl back

[Verse 9: WC]
Step up, murderer!
Steppin' out a Chevrolet, sportin' a beanie like Marvin Gaye
Stalkin', walkin' in my big black Chucks
Standin' tall in your freestyle session, holdin' my balls
I'm peepin' game like a ref in '95
‘Cause niggas be foul and bitin' other niggas' styles (Ugh!)
But if you're bitin' this, you better bring a dentist
‘Cause suckin' these balls'll give your ass lockjaw, fool! (Woo-oooo!)

[Verse 10: Mack 10]
Which way shall I go? Nigga, what should I do?
Should I bang with the red, or should I truce with the blue?
Should I rock dope beats, and grab the mic and stay down?
Or should I shoot outta town and flip this pound?
Shiieet! I never thought that my nuts'd get bigger
Checkin' major figures, I'm hangin’ with platinum niggas
It's Mack 10 and I'm Inglewood swangin'
No time for bangin', but still got my khakis hangin'

[Verse 11: Ice Cube]
Fuck one love! It's the bloody glove, killin' honkey hoes
Leavin' blood stains on Broncos
In a Hertz rental, I drive on the 405 — is he dead or alive?
Mutha-fuck court! Took another snort
Jumpin' over chairs as I run through the airport
So I can catch a flight away from the drama
Number 32, chillin' in the Bahamas

[Verse 12: WC]
Aww, Shucky Ducky! Quack quack!
Niggas ain't knowin' how to act
Sucka ducks play the back
Niggas used to diss, but now it's turnin' around
And like Brandy, muthafuckaz wanna be down with this
West Coast rap game, I can give a fuck!
If you wasn't down at first, you can buck these nuts!
Transformers get stole on! (BOOM!)
Get the picture? Killa Cali — home of the body bags, nigguh! (Ugh!)

[Hook x2: Ice Cube & (Mack 10)]
Westside’s on the map!
(Niggas rappin’ since the ‘70s and still never went gold!)