Westside Connection - All the Critics in New York Lyrics

Writer(s) : JACKSON, O'SHEA / CALHOUN, WILLIAM / GARNER, RYAN "BINKY" / ROLISON, DEDRICK
Artist: Westside Connection Lyrics
Popularity : 57 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 4 on Bow Down
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Goddamn! new york city!
Skyscrapers and everything!

Back in the day, we used to respect y'all *****s
We used to be down with y'all *****s
All you have for the west coast, is criticism and disrespect
So I say to you and your city
Y'all *****s will never get our respect again
Westside ***** (keeping it real)
Yeah! (keeping it real)

Westside!
Is brooklyn in the house? (check it out)
What about queens in the house?!? (inglewood!)
Manhattan in the house? (south central)
Long island in the house? (check it out)
Is the bronx in the house? (waddup)
Staten island in the house? (woop woop)
The west coast is in the house sayin
Why you talkin loud?
What you talkin bout?

**** all the critics in the n-why-see
Who wants to rock the microphone after me?
Think of who you are and who you be
My energy holds it down like the nfc
I'm going thorough through your borough
Wit my raider jacket and my jheri curl, gangstas rule the world
On the west, nevertheless, w-s
We got the bomb and you *****s got the stress

You couldn't have said it no better homeboy
With my automatic toy, I kill and destroy
These buster *** critics from the n-why-see
Don't they know that I be from the I-n-g
My peeps play for keeps, deep crews pay dues
By murder ones and twos, rip riders and damus
Choose to stay gangsta, you never ever ran us
We bustin clips like bananas, sportin colored bandanas

It's the mister hoodsta, cap peeler
Dusty *** new york critic killer
Dumping and pumping the **********in lead in their chest
Because ain't none of them *****s ever gave it up for the west
So now it's on and, the gauge in my pants got me limpin
**** you-n-I-t-why, I'm coast trippin
Saggin as a pelle, smashin tape recorders
This is 187 on a new york reporter

"new york, new york"
"new york, new york"
"new york, new york"
"new york, new york"

**** all the critics in the n-why-see
Tryin to get an east hip-hop monopoly
But I've been writing gangsta **** since '83
When y'all was still scared to use profanity
Now everybody want to run and go and get triggers
And blame it on these west coast seven-figure *****s
Just because we made it real *****s got to deal
I hope blood ain't got to spill, I kill

It's like the battle of the sexes
You want to treat us like *****es 'cause we're platinum when we flex this
With mic in hand, fans in the stands
We make a mill-ion from california to japan, *****
Went overseas, seen d's how we done it
88's to 100's to let me know who really run it
This west coast gangsta **** got it crackin, or we jackin
Packin nina's and sellin out arenas, *****s

You make me want to holler, throw up both my dubs
And roll these *****s up, I got to beat em
When I see me, t-roller cut off his scrotum
Leave em bleedin in particles for them biases articles
I'm mashin and blastin so get the casket
I bet you after this I get a ****in hip-hop classic
I'm banning you *****s from the scene
Kickin over newstands, pouring gasoline on your magazines

To the west my *****s, to the west
To the west my *****s, to the west
To the west my *****s, to the west
We the best my *****s don't stress

**** all the critics in the n-why-see
And your articles tryin to rate my lp
**** your backpacks and your wack *** raps
Sayin we ain't real because we make snaps
Sellin 6-fo's to the dab, what you lookin at?
With your brooklyn hat and your pen and pad, *****
I got a pocket full of green busting at the seams
**** your baggy jeans, **** your magazines

Hey hey hey, what's happenin round tre?
It's still m-why critic k on mines all **********in day
It's a trip the script flipped from when you *****s was bossin
Got to flossin, fell off, and got the nail in the coffin
Who want to regret, ****in with my set
I be a 24-year street westside connect vet
You *****s better watch how you greet us when you meet us
We packin heaters and the only way you beat us is cheat us

***** **** that ****
I gotta, kill it kill it, **** a new york critic
He write about how I lived it, did it, plus I'm still with it
Puttin it down on all these djs, hate, fakin and flakin
Never once played my record on their radio station
No love for a new york critic or disc jock
Matter of fact I'm blamin all y'all for ****in up hip-hop

Is brooklyn in the house? (check it out)
What about queens in the house?
Manhattan in the house? (and it don't stop)
Long island in the house? (yeah! yeah! check it out)
Is the bronx in the house?
Staten island in the house? (say what say what?)
The west coast is in the house sayin (yeah)
Why you talkin loud?
What you talkin bout?

Yeah, take it how you want to take it, punk
We're gonna make it how
We gonna make it, punk
What y'all *****s talkin about?
Y'all ain't acquantin and barkin on hip-hop
This westside connection


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