S.C.G.`Z

Check it out<br>All don`t G like we G<br>Evil side on the cut thang S.C.C.<br>Y`all don`t G...<br><br>[HAVIKK]<br>4 deep on the creep, I gots the heat on -<br>We swervin` whip to set trip, regulate your block<br>Turn the 6-4`s to low-low`s, bangin` for the West Coast<br>What`s next? Breakin fools necks like bad checks<br>Outrageous with 12 gauges, L.A. Times front pages<br>Leavin` mingled bodies hangin` on stages<br>Collapse fools with raps, peeelin` caps with straps<br>Twistin` off the bomb, my eyes are tighter than Japs<br>Rollin` evil with the evil side schemin`, Young Prod<br>Clipp`s the house, oh my God, a homicide!<br>Is about to be committed, admit it, we run thangs<br>Full Clipp from S.C., ready to ride and hoo-bang<br>Competin`, strangle the evil with low blows<br>Low low`s stay juiced on thick with hell of heat exposed<br>The S.C. script have a design to serve anydody<br>Yeah, West Coast is more feared than John Gotti<br><br>Chorus...<br><br>So what you gon` do when you see<br>Them West Coast G`s mobbin` 4 and 5 deep <br>And flossin` whips<br>Shake it, shake it babe, West Coast Gangstas 5 deep<br>And that`s killa...<br><br>[PRODEJE]<br>G manouvres, increasin` my retaliation<br>Real killers provoked could equal to your devastation<br>My motivation is lyrication, this philosophation<br>Acquired by the gangsta`s inspiration<br>Ready to loc, I`m smokin` tracks like it`s (blunted)<br>I`m frontin` `bout .44 mags and G rags<br>My khakis, t-shirt and Chucks stun ya<br>I zap you like a genie<br>You try to escape like Whodini<br>You plastic<br>I`m boombastic like that mutha... Shaggy<br>The Cartel keeps the groove nasty<br>You tried to fade, but got eleminated, tried the differential<br>But couldn`t fade the gangstas gettin` mental<br>Credential, compound exploding through hoods and towns<br>Breakin` it down, the G`s is makin` the world go round<br>It`s Mr. Prod comin` cutthroat, live like a wire<br>The West Coast G`s is on fire<br><br>Chorus...<br><br>[??? & YOUNG PROD]<br>Freestylin` to a instrumental, in a rental <br>Q-fo`-fever, evil side finna leave ya<br>Whole hood leakin, blood seekin` for the weekend<br>Headhuntin like a dome-servin` freak and<br>Mental scheme we G`s this, we locs like that<br>We grab Macs and reacts to open marks` backs<br>Welcome to the dome of terror, the era of the Evil Side<br>Lay fools out in rhymes like drive-by`s<br>Come, come, test this, let`s just<br>See yo` face taste ??? then just this<br>No mistakin, not fakin in the field, we`re money-makin`<br>We grab the g`s, get the ki`s and we shake it<br>It ain`t too easy to find me<br>Young Prod run games like Jumanji<br>My 9 blow minds everytime I dump<br>Takin` bastards` chests out and lump<br>Evil Side, serve a whole click from the back to the front<br>Don`t front, so where ya at?<br>In the back of the homie`s `Lac<br>Cockin` a strap, finna take the funny style off the mat<br>I got your back - back at ya, gangsta<br>Pull the triggers, slugs to bastards` mugs<br>Forever Evil Side, straight bangers<br><br>Chorus...