[Intro] Blaze up (Oh yeah!) World wide, don't stop don't stop West side, don't stop Mack 10 with Tha Dogg Pound Yeah and the hits don't stop (Sucka) Hey, Daz, check this out, dog
[Verse 1: Mack 10] Now when I come to ya'll hood, ya'll watch my back And when ya come to Inglewood I'm a front you a sack So we can grind and get away with the cash like a caper Cause it ain't about the set-trip, it's all about the paper Made the poverty cease, on the rise like yeast A pavé ‘lex piece, and I keep my khaki's creased Mack 10 is the lick, and ya know what my set be Connect gang, nigga, from the west, where the best be
[Verse 2: Daz Dillinger] It ain't no questions asked, you down to blast for me? Down to ride for me? Down to die for me? I come through for these sucka-ass niggas who rep Come creepin' up on shorty slowly, show him death Pull out the Mack 90 automatic for static Blast a couple of niggas, leave 'em all panicked And we swerve and hit the curb, smoke some herb We came up too much, too tough, and too rough
[Verse 3: Kurupt] We in the war zone where the war's on, where ya gun, nigga? Show 'em where you're from, nigga, ridin'-ass young nigga Arsenel equipped, hot enough to scorch With the double fours on the hip rolling with the force He's out to catch a body Talking, 'bout I thought this was a gangsta party Now he's walking around salty as the sea Talking 'bout what's jumpin? I'm about to get the pump to pumping and start dumping on something
[Hook] Fuck you over there, party over here And if you wanna trip, we got the straps near Cause niggas like us do platinum every year And if I ruled this sphere [your shit'd disappear] Now everybody in the house, throw your dubs in the air And wave 'em all around like ya just don't care It's worldwide and dope, so, nigga, act like ya savvy Mack 10 and Tha Pound cooking nothing but the cavi
[Verse 4: Mack 10] I'm servin' niggas like a host with the pound, so take a toast Dog, this west coast and our shit bump the most Cause vine to vine I swing through the woods of Ingle And everything I make, fuck around and be a single From the hoo-bangin' hits, to the yes, yes, ya'lls Now all down my halls, got plaques on my walls We might slow the roll, sit back and still kick it But the shit don't stop 'til we hit a meal ticket
[Verse 5: Daz Dillinger] I'll be goddamned, I'm in it for a meal ticket And the goal's successful I don't know who to prove a show Usual swerve a corner and hit a block back-to-back I don't know, it's like that, where the gang-bangers hang at They say, \"Daz, you a rider?\" I reply with, \"Boy, hell yeah, I'm a rider!\" From the east side of Long Beach to the west side of Inglewood On a cash mission bailing hood to hood
[Verse 6: Kurupt] Once upon a time in the early stages of my life Sacrifice, out for the loot shaking niggas like dice Forever and a day, say what you say On the mic I display, Philly to LA I've been all over from Crenshaw and Imperial To 108th, I'm sure Mack got my back It's all about mashing, cash and heat in the stash When you're in the neigborhood of assassins What you say?
[Hook]
[Outro] What do you consider fun? (That's the bomb, that's the bomb) All day night, and all night long (That's the bomb, that's the bomb) When you wake up in the morning and you start to yawn (That's the bomb, that's the bomb) All day night, and all day long (That's the bomb, that's the bomb) C'mon, c'mon Yeah, dub S.C.G D.P.G.C Take a picture, trick Take a picture, trick Take a picture, trick It might make ya rich West side! Biatch Death Row