#k dee

I thought I saw a puddycat, caught her peekin'; Oh, where she at? I must be tweakin'. I never knew when I grew up it was real; I had no ideal, I just blew up The spot, a knot in my pocket. I shoot like a rocket; With the loot, you got a boot, then let me knock it.

Ollie, Ollie, all come free, bending the corner, Blowed with a pocket full of weed. Serving all enemies, fuck your whole set - This is the Westside Connect, I'm stealing to the neck.

I'm in the ghetto hall of fame, Man it ain't no thang; So why you playin' games? Trick, you know my name. Oh, am I talking loud? What you talking ‘bout? And what you doing out on my paper route?

*West Coast Wednesday!*

I am ill, gettin’ iller, Ice Cube is illustratin’ it; A brand new cut, keep the b-boys hatin’ it. Don't get paid, but that's alright; I got the riches of a king when I hold the mic.

It's not a day that goes by That I can deny that I'm fly - You gots to ask why. By the way, Butter not Parkay - It's me.