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Southland Killers (Featuring MC Ren & King Tee)

[MC Ren]

Yeah, y'all know what the fuck this is

Emcee motherfuckin' Ren up in this bitch, nigga

Yeah, all y'all bitch-ass niggas out here talkin' all that shit

We 'bout to drop this motherfucker on y'all like this

Punk ass niggas out here, nigga

We some Southland Killers in this motherfucker[MC Ren]

Niggas all across town, all up in the suburbs

While niggas makin' faces like The Rock on the curb

Nigga People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold

And groupie niggas bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?)

Big-ass cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's)

And hos wit' big lips doin' what they supposed (yeah)

Didn't have shit till I started to bust

And y'all got shit 'cause of my balls are cussed

Ren and Cypress Hill - they ain't liver than us

Nigga legendary villain, who started the fuss

Nigga double glock, cocked, get your shit rocked

Get your crib knocked, nigga, have that rib popped

Under bosses and trouble; they under my rubble

Clone motherfuckers always the villain like The Hubble

Fuck your bubble; I bust them shits

Plaques and shit, grab my dick, spit these hits[Chorus]

All my niggas, do you want to ride wit' us? (Do ya want to ride wit us?) (Killers!)

Throw your clips up, man, we's about to bust (man, we's about to bust) (Killers!)

Cypress Hill click, yeah, we ready for war (yeah, we ready for war) (Killers!)

All y'all niggas better just hit the floor (Killers!)[King Tee]

I'm close to the best thing on the West Wing

Blown out your set, flames when the best sing

It's a rep thing; haters feel they chest pain

They feel it in they heart: I was there to test things

Didn't arrest aim, the bullet-proof vest came

These niggas shoot first, then askin' check names

It's less strain

It's all real; I bet fame; it's a chess game

Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right)

I might sound funny out here

But, really, niggas get money out here

And, hey, everyday is sunny out here

So listen, don't play dummy out here

King try for bust, make your whole pack run

Stacked enough cash, so now I stack guns

Fat ones, all cold and black ones

Southland Killin' - it's just how that's done[Chorus][Sen Dog and B-Real]

You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill

When your shit talks is when die on the Hill

We get hot on the heel, rely on the steel

When your paper gets pulled, and you design is steeled

Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will

Busters get slayed![B-Real]

When you fuck around with Real

Take time to feel what I'm tellin' you hos (tellin' you hos)

You couldn't fuck around with me if I was sellin' you blows

Just goes to show the incredible skill tell

Bitch nigga, now you trapped under my wig well

Gettin' trampled, dumped on, and thumped on

Scraped on the six-five with the hand on the pump song[Sen Dog]

Don't even fuck with these Southland grands

We the vatos that run on Los Angeles

Call me Mad Dog if you think you know me

If you're not sure, then turn around and leave slowly![Chorus]

Songwriters

PATTERSON, LORENZO JERALD / MUGGERUD, LARRY / MCBRIDE, ROGER / FREEZE, LOUIS M. / REYES, SENENPublished by

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY, Royalty Network Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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