Westwood Killaz

[Verse 1: Sweet Talk]
Slowly, I'm arisin' from the ringin' of my telephone
Picked it up, my nigga Bush then told me that it's fuckin' on
Quickly took a shower, not an hour 'fore I'm out the door
Time to scoop my niggas, then we run up in the liquor store
Kickin' it in the park, after dark, we do it every day
Started in the mornin', but now, it's dark, and ho, we chiefin' hay
Sweet Talk on the mic
You know I'm hype, because I'm on that dope
Testin' all you bustas, 'cause I'm quick to make it let it go
Ran into some problems with them niggas on the other side
Play me like a ho, and watch the unexpected killer ride
Niggas turn to snitches, run they mouths just like a bitch
But don't say fuck them bustas
Let's go kick it with Lil' 'Vious

[Verse 2: Murda One]
A new day, my beepers beepin'
And my alarm clock ring's to wake me up
Before I leave the house, I hug my mom, she wish me good luck
Reached up under my pillow
Gripped my nine, and tuck it in my pants
Bustas tried to scope me out
If you like your life, don't take that chance
Everyday, it's shit I'm gettin' in, hangin' with Lil' Tigh
Robbin' bustas, grip that Glock, drinkin' yac's, and gettin' high
Sit back in a crutch, high as hell, bumpin' Marvin Gaye
'Vious is in the back seat, chiefin' on a blunt of hay
Keke got that Tec, don't bust a sweat, they'll pop it at yo neck
I know that he's a lunatic that should be gettin' crazy checks
I'm that way when chiefin' hay
Don't drop it off, you'll make my day
Sid has got my back, Lil' Derrick drivin' for the getaway
Westwood niggas train to kill
And I stay cocked at all times
Killas rot up in my hood, I bet you that I'm down for mine

[Verse 3: Sweet Talk]
Now, we scoop Lil' 'Vious up out
To smoke out on the quarter pound
Rollin', scopin' bustas 'bout to make some lemons lay it down
Lay it down, lay it down, 211's in effect
Fool, you better not bust a sweat, I got this Tec up to yo neck
Westwood comin' super deep up in this mothafuckin' bitch
Lil' P, drop that mass and show them bitches who they fuckin' with

[Verse 4: Murda One]
Hickory, Dickory, Dock, from the Glock found in my suit
Make your body numb with them Teflon's, then I shoot
Cowards, lay it down, I got the Jason mask up on my face
Bustas better not make no move before I'll catch a murder case
Tell me how my lead taste, I'll put yo soul to waste
[?], we buckin' all them hoes, so children, stay in yo place

[Outro: Murda One]
And it stay on that
That's how this shit gon' be
And that's how this shit always gon' be
Westwood Killaz, bitch