Westside Story Lyrics

Kick that shit Santana

Tommy Gun

Yeah

You front seat four deep

Riding around with the bros

Just today up in the hood

Might just pull up with some hoes

The driver acting like speed racer

Man, that nigga be doing the most

In your hindsight you see the blue and red lights

Yup, here go the folks

You ain't worried about it though

To that you coolin', riding clean

Worst come to worst he just gonna give you a ticket

And let y'all leave

But you forgot you had a hot box

Man, this mothafucka smell like weed

Bruh in the backseat yell I ain't going to jail

You're like, the fuck that mean?

Twelve tap on a window, want everybody just show their ID

Little did you know, buddy behind you slid his gun under the seat

Of course police smell the weed

Get out the car, spread your feet

Bruh in the backseat took the fuck off like G Herbo on the beat

Second police stay in y'all face he see

something you ain't trying to see

Reading charges you ain't trying to read

Now you somewhere you ain't trying to be

All four y'all in the holding tank

Bro had a pocket full of lucky charms

But of course he left it in the car

Now the people trying to put the charge on y'all

The other nigga got a story to tell

He ready to fold on y'all

Had a snotty nose in the squad car

He already done told on y'all

They taking in everybody for questions

You hear him behind the wall

Nigga crying all out

Goddamn, I shouldn't even rode with y'all!

You get your phone call

Call up your baby mama

Say you sitting in jail

She pregnant with your firstborn

And barely even got some money for bail

They finna hold y'all for the weekend

You gonna be sitting for a while

They said the gun was in the robbery

And you might have to take it to trial

But you got work in the morning

And the judge won't see you till Monday

You ain't know bro was bout gunplay

Damn, so much for a fun day

Your baby mama, she called up your granny

She put up that bond for you

You back on the street

If you see your bro from the backseat

Put that fire on him

Damn, I dig it

That shit that you talking, I lived it

You see the boy blocked, I spinned it

This court system be ridiculous

Locking up real good niggas

And they don't never get a mention

Family barely give 'em attention

Don't be fucking around with them fuck arounds

They'll fuck you over in a minute

Tommy Gun