Haha, I can't believe you niggaz
You can't be serious
You really thought since 'Pac died
The West coast fell the fuck off, huh?
You thought since Dre ain't made a album, we flopped?
Fuck that shit nigga
Rap-A-Lot for life nigga, Yukmouth nigga
West Coast don nigga, what's wit' it punk?
It's nuthin' to a boss nigga
We been ridin' on dubb's that spin nigga
We been poppin' bottles, nigga
Since 'Pac was alive nigga
The West Coast is back you faggot ass fucks
I'm from the West Coast and never-ever crip-walk
I'm like the Bird Man, platinum grill, big cross
And I'm tryin' to sell a few mill like Kris Kross
I'm ultra cocky, tell a chicken get lost
Diss the boss an' get ya lips ripped off
I let clips off, ya whole click soft
What you know about a hundred on a wrist watch
Twenty on ya chicks watch loungin' Gucci flip flops
And I bang in the club like Rick Rock
Yuk show you how to rock that real thug hip-hop
They ride lo-lo's, Yukmouth flip drops
Off the floor every year is a whip hop
Menage-a-trios all year if ya chick jock
With ten karats in my ear like big shot
Godzilla get the scrilla like Chris Rock
An' I'ma bring the West back when my shit drop
To roll around on 24's wit' plenty millions in a vouge
Everything a nigga want it's nothin' to a boss
So much ice a nigga froze, custom rides wit' 310's
Until I die it's all West Coast, it's nothin' big to a boss
Yeah, if you gon' do it, do it right, I'm in the blue and white
Rally striped Vipe leavin Peanuts wit' a crew of dykes
Tuesday night I got my game together
I'm dangerous fella, my rims spin like plane propellers
An' I'm down wit' Prince James forever
Rap-A-Lot fo' lia
(Life)
Yukmouth, Scarface an Tela
And y'all know Yuk is off the meter
For all you non-believers, I spark the heater
I'm what you call a block leader
Why you hatin'?
I roll through ya radio station wit' Gary Payton
In a franchise Lac outside on cherry Dayton's
An' rock the new blue Burberry
Make every nation feel the thug vibration, uh
My cars talk back like Michael Knight
I got a hunderd on a Roy Jones and Tyson fight
You wanna roll wit baller, well tonight's ya night
I rock ice cause the price is right
Step it up hater, yeah
To roll around on 24's wit' plenty millions in a vouge
Everything a nigga want it's nothin' to a boss
So much ice a nigga froze, custom rides wit' 310's
Until I die it's all West Coast, it's nothin' big to a boss
Every day I'm poppin' a bottle and poppin' a tag
Fourty G's in a Gucci bag, I'm coppin' a Jag
Two-hundred G's in a Louie bag, I'm coppin' a pad
Wit' the dragon shaped tool in the bag
What you know about that?
What you know about chronic an Hypnotic?
Coppin' Lamborghini's from 310 an Simbalic
Drop stretch Hummers, twenty-four inch rims on it
[Unverified] skin interior wit' the suede trim on it, wait
I came in the game wit' mobsta tales
I hit Mr. Chow's for meals, crack lobster tails
At the mall wit' a model who only buys Chanelle
You wish I fell but I prevail, Yukmouth is ill
I rock the, 'Wheels of Fortune'
Like Pat Sajack in a black Maybach
I'm tryin' to bring the Bay back
In a A's throw back and a A's hat
Yuk a beast, and bleach couldn't fade that
What?
To roll around on 24's wit' plenty millions in a vouge
Everything a nigga want it's nothin' to a boss
So much ice a nigga froze, custom rides wit' 310's
Until I die it's all West Coast, it's nothin' big to a boss
Nothin' 2 A Boss Lyrics performed by Yukmouth are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Nothin' 2 A Boss Lyrics performed by Yukmouth is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD