[Intro: Ice Cube]
Hey, living in a California cage--ya'll trying to study me
Gangbangin' a never die--it's too much love
You always gonna get n****s like us, you know what I mean
God damn--how many more motherf***in' penatentaries ya'll gonna build
How many jars you gonna try to put us in
You know what I'm saying

Killa county is a state, murda [Repeat: x4]

[Ice Cube]
Can't none of ya'll n****s f*** with none of these n****s
These triggas we's killas (hahaha)
Sittin' on the porch in between legs
Wit a b**** French braiding my head

Leave 'em til they matted forearm tatted
What's the Connection b**** you looking at it
It don't stop
I hit mo' licks than it

Takes to get to the center (once, two, three) of a blow pop
And it's gonna take a miracle
To drive a car this color down Imperial
Yeah, I got heart but ain't trying to see Marcia Clark

(Punk a** n****)
So let's wait till it get dark
So many foe's walk in my ??
It's like the international, house of pancakes

All on the gra**, every b**** pa**ed
A first not last, when we all hit the a**
Doin' tricks jacked up like a six (what)
One P****, and thirteen dicks

Gangsta's don't dance we boogie (ahhh)
N****s run out and get ya cookie

[Westside]
Killa county is a state, murda [Repeat: x4]

[W.C.]
Who's that dumpin' out that window hoo riding (westsiide)
Nobody survives when I got my steel up
Throwing my s*** up pulling the trigga
What the f*** you lookin' at n**** [whistle]

True blue when I bust
Leavin' bodies hangin' like the tongue of my chucks
Chalk another one, homicidal in the G ride
I swear I'm killing every n**** standing outside

Letting 'em have it
With my double barrel sawed off
I'm smoking everybody n**** b****es and all
Stretch 'em out in broad daylight muthaf*** the witnesses

Eyes big as golf balls from the funny cigarette [haha]
As the sun frowns on my forehead
I sweat murder which makes me a walking dead man
Man bringing more bad news than shlepp rock

When I bust shots
W.C. keep the hammer c***ed

The gangsta, the killa, and the dope deala [Repeat: x4]

[Mack 10]
What's crackin
Well, it's the n**** that's housin' the scene
I got pounds of green and birds sittin' on the triple beams
I put it down on and off the record my flats a

Double decker, marble floors all checkered
Now what can I say every b**** I lay be pure and
Bombay like Peruvian yae
So I brag and I boast man I got the most, man

I make more deliveries than the postman
My homie Carlito plug me with the amigos an
Now it's kilos five and six double zeros
Now what's next I'm stuck like a Kotex

Blindin' n****s with the buggas in my Rolex
With my aces o-t on a regular basis
We got pauveted faces fightin' federal cases
'Cause ain't nothin' reala' than n****s gettin' they scrilla

Like a gangsta, a killa
But Mack I'll be the dope deala

Killa county is a state, murda [Repeat: x4]

The gangsta the killa and the dope deala (murda) [Repeat: x8]

Damn it's a trip, all these cameras goin' up
I can't go here, I can't go there
I feel institutionalized
And I'm on the street

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Writer(s): DEDRICK ROLISON, O'SHEA JACKSON, TRENT REZNOR, WILLIAM CALHOUN