Lyrics:
and gone (note 2)
Mrs Casey when she heard the news
Sitting on her bedside, she was lacing up her shoes
Children, children now hold your breath (note 3)
I'm the [D]train they call the [A]City of New [Bm]Orleans,
I'll be gon[C]e five [G]hundred miles[A] when the day is [D]done.
Dealing card games
Cas Sis V de pan de mike I beg you keep up the pace
And who a star wid Mr T it's Hannibal, Murdock and face
I'm sure you noticed on the mike that
a gram on the street, 50G
The part of Mr. Ropo was played by Mr T
making paper, still we having fun
I hope by now it's proven, Nate and Warren G
Tightest combination in the industry
Here comes another one
I can see us
around
In the small bayside town
Where his Dad's called the bingo
For thirty-five years.
And later on that night
Under the porch light
Mrs. Pinocci
and told her she need Listerine
Twist the green, it's laced with antihistamine
Enough to make you make your face like Mr. Bean
V hit the scene like: "Fuck
dice game got my win on
About a G and a half is what I come with
But twenty five G's is what I left with
*?Teatley?* was the word I heard
I went deep in
"I'm an idiot for throwing yogurt
And your finsta is better
Than mine by a mile."
Lies
They're all lies
Oh, hello, Mr. Hyland
Welcome
10 seconds
7, 6, 5, 4, 3
Ignition
Lift off
Blobby, oh Mr Blobby
If only you could make us understand
Blobby, oh Mr Blobby
Your influence
but thanks to all the haters
I know G-IV pilots on a first name basis
In your city faded off the brown, Nino
She insists she got more class, we know
then ran through the alley must have been a coward
No more hit 'em up like in the old days
homies scrab with Mack 10s and AKs
that's why I roll by
So many times that my memories are worn.
[Chorus]
And, "Daddy, won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County?
Down by the Green River where Paradise
holding the fo'-five
You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside
(This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag)
(Gangstas we love to sag, we
and flies he breakin' down them pizza pies (Mr. Pies!)
See my eyes, rolled up right now.
I'm facin' three to five. (in Jersey!)
Assault charge, yeah
hear nobody disagreein'
Orga-no-I-z-e-Mr. D.J. and me and Big Boi
[Chorus]
So don't spend yo whole life
Livin' it for the white
You got a 9
a hunrded g's at a time nigga!
Wattup mr bank roll shit im just chillin headed to NY city
talkin' about a nother million
Wuttup mr bank roll same thing
Pull out the four-five, and kill him motherfuckin dead
Pump his ass with lead
Never fakin moves, motherfucker run the jewels
Buckwild, blowin niggas
Yeah, the motherfuckin' East Bay Gangster back in the house
A.k.a. Mr. Kill Yo' Ass
187 Fac mothafucker
Nine-trey
G-Nut in the motherfuckin'
label
If I did this whole rap game be unstable
Went over to Arista wit Mr. Davis, for the change of neighbors
It's only fair that we share those
(Chorus)
I play the game by the G code,
Play the game by the G code,
Being real is all that i know
I live my life by the V code
Live my life by
G's and 5 five G's in one
[Chorus]
You ready to get loose, shawty, better be
Sittin' on them leather seats
If not, pat yo feet on the concrete
holdin' the fo'-five
You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside
This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag
Gangstas we love to sag, we
a white collared suit, with a 9-5I wanna be just like the dope man as long as I stay alive
Mr. Dope man, theres someone watchin yo line
Whenever I call ya
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