Lyrics:
the struggle, pap's wasn't there
Raised by the streets middle
Finger in the air
I'm a billionaire, a slumdog billionaire
Back from the dead, strap no fed
East
Basedheads coming through looking for the plug
Now, born and raised in my area
Beautiful by day, by night its hysteria
Fuck around and bury ya tonight
Ridin'
my nigga, I'm on my grind
Afraid of the dark, so I'm forced to shine
Let them guns blam, bitch, you know I am
I go Kanye, Jay-Z ham it's the summer
and time flies, so I really hope this reach you, man
And Elijah Wallace, I got something for you, buddy
You might feel like Kanye West, but you really ain't
Nothin' but a gangsta party (for life, for life)
Nothin' but a gangsta party (West Coast, West Coast for life)
Got me up against the fence, back
bullets getting tossed
16 on your back like you fucking Jeff Goff
Your man acting girly too put 30 on his chest
Kanye shrug bitch, welcome to the west
the
Sess to kill the stress
Moved out west and I invest in all the best
Those who test will find a
Bullet in they chest
Put to rest by a brotha who was
off the head
Don't worry bitch, cause I'm leaving em dead
(West$ide)
Yeah, This anthem shit, not trap
Don't bang but still don't lack
Can't cap and put
I've been waiting
Outside your bedroom window
Hanging, by a threaded
Noose until you
Finally notice me
Drop dead gorgeous
But only one of
Them is
Smell the money when I wake up in the morning bitch
The girl I'm with drop dead gorgeous leave you mourning bitch
Treat the mission like my baby, I'm
the temples of doom somehow we managed to bloom like blossoms,
By any means necessary said Malcolm, nights before battle we play dead
Like possums, mimimizing
and greedier
Buyin out major labels and pimpin the media
Orchestratin beef between the west and east
Kill a superstar, blow up his next release
We got to put
chea
Kanye West on the track (whoo!) Chi-Town, what's going on now?
Can I talk to y'all for a minute? Lemme talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme
Niggas say the west ain't winnin', I'm just tryin' to find the proof
Speakin' of Proof, I'm 'bout to roll one with Snoop
Blow the smoke out to your
Niggas say the west ain't winnin', I'm just tryin' to find the proof
Speakin' of Proof, I'm 'bout to roll one with Snoop
Blow the smoke out to your memory
Niggas say the west ain't winnin', I'm just tryin' to find the proof
Speakin' of Proof, I'm 'bout to roll one with Snoop
Blow the smoke out to your
i can't stop
my blessing and my curse
creating all these waves
for all of y'all to surf
i serve the flow
it always goes first
west side taste
wit
wanna ball, but can't on the west coast
Dre day's been dead a long time ago
Respect the inc/row/rap-a-lot collabo'
Just know that you nigga ain't save
My vision enormous, my bitches is gorgeous
And I am dead serious, bitch I spit with embalming
Shout out to lil g, shout out Tre and Mohammad
That
(Maybe in this song, you shouldn't start by saying)
Nigga, I said it, I know that you mad
I've emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned
give it to em
I had to run it back
I utilize
What scrutinized my eyes
Going in the past
Back back to find what's mine
Unraveling these verses
With dead
I grab her by the neck
Flex all the muscles in my hands till she drop dead
She drop dead gorgeous, Drop Dead!
Now get the fuck on the floor bitch,
Every rapper drop called little
Little little even wore Skittles
Went platinum and continental
OG talk with no credentials
Hip hop dead mothafucker
going to unpack our troubles from our old kit bag
And wait until we drop down dead.
From Portland Bill to Scarborough
They're querulous and subdued
.jpg/225px-Kanye_West_at_the_2009_Tribeca_Film_Festival_(cropped).jpg "Kanye West")
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