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Westside Connection: All The Critics In New York Lyrics

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Artist: Westside Connection
Song title: All The Critics In New York
Lyrics:



Goddamn! New York City!

Skyscrapers and everything!



[Ice Cube]

Back in the day, we used to respect y'all niggas

We used to be down with y'all niggas

All you have for the West Coast, is criticism and disrespect

So I say to you and your city

Y'all niggas will never get our respect again

Westside nigga (Keeping it real)

Yeah! (Keeping it real)



[All]

WESTSIIIIIDE!

Is Brooklyn in the house?!? (Check it out)

What about Queens in the house?!? (INGLEWOOOOD!!!)

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?!?



[Ice Cube]

Fuck all the critics in the N-Y-C

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 thru 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 niggas got the stress



[Mack 10]

You couldn't have said it no better homeboy

With my automatic toy, I kill and destroy

These buster ass critics from the N-Y-C

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



[WC]

It's the Mister hoodsta, cap peeler

Dusty ass New York critic killer

Dumping and pumping the motherfuckin lead in their chest

Because ain't none of them niggas ever gave it up for the West

So now it's on and, the gauge in my pants got me limpin

Fuck U-N-I-T-Y, 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"



[Ice Cube]

Fuck all the critics in the N-Y-C

Tryin to get an East hip-hop monopoly

But I've been writing gangsta shit since '83

When y'all was still scared to use profanity

Now everybody wanna run and go and get triggers

And blame it on these West Coast seven-figure niggas

Just because we made it real niggas got to deal

I hope blood ain't got to spill, I kill



[Mack 10]

It's like the battle of the sexes

You wanna treat us like bitches cos we're platinum when we flex this

With mic in hand, fans in the stands

We make a mill-ion from California to Japan, bitch

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 shit got it crackin, or we jackin

Packin nina's and sellin out arenas, niggas



[WC]

You make me wanna holler, throw up both my Dubs

And roll these niggas 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 fuckin hip-hop classic

I'm banning you niggas from the scene

Kickin over newstands, pouring gasoline on your magazines



[Ice Cube]

To the West my niggas, to the West

To the West my niggas, to the West

To the West my niggas, to the West

We the best my niggas don't stress



Fuck all the critics in the N-Y-C

And your articles tryin to rate my LP

Fuck your backpacks and your wack ass 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, nigga

I got a pocket full of green busting at the seams

Fuck your baggy jeans, fuck your magazines



[Mack 10]

Hey hey hey, what's happenin round tre?

It's still M-Y critic K on mines all motherfuckin day

It's a trip the script flipped from when you niggas was bossin

Got to flossin, fell off, and got the nail in the coffin

Who wanna regret, fuckin with my set

I be a 24-year street Westside Connect vet

You niggas better watch how you greet us when you meet us

We packin heaters and the only way you beat us is cheat us



[WC]

AIIIIYO!!! Nigga fuck that shit

I gotta, kill it kill it, fuck 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 fuckin up hip-hop



[All]

Is Brooklyn in the house?!? (Check it out)

What about Queens in the house?!? (WESTSIIIIIIIDE!!!)

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?!?



[Ice Cube]

Why talkin loud?!?

What you talkin bout?!?

[repeat 15x]

WESTSIDE NIGGA!!!



[Mack 10 talking over Ice Cube]

Yeah, take it how you wanna take it, punk

We're gonna make it how

We gonna make it, punk

What y'all niggas talkin about?

Y'all ain't acquantin and barkin on hip-hop

This Westside Connection

WESTSIIIIDE!!!


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