.4 5  Glock 40's on sight to see
 Me and the homies run deep like a wild pack of wolves
 Attack like the Congo's when niggas talk bull
 Better step and get further before them hollow tips spit
 The Vulcan automatic with the Vulcan death grip
 Walk the strip and still tote  see four in the tip
 and explode on Kryptonite chronic blunts when we dip
 Chorus:
 And I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
 Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now?
 I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
 Take your whole motherfuckin crew out
 I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
 Whatchu motherfuckers wanna do now?
 I be hittin motherfuckers like boo yow!
 Take your whole motherfuckin crew out
 Now step into my zone, we can get it on
 Roll a coupe, not a chrome, fuck a sack, I wanna zone
 Stay blown on the strip, all switches away from dips
 Next to the mack and the lil' homey talkin shit
 He quick to blast on that ass, blood puddles in the grass
 I thought "Make sure he dead, come back and then we smash
 witta .4-5 automatic slug in his windpipe
 Ain't no love, for a thug livin one life
 We split wigs back like afro picks
 Flagged up, ain't your momma's style when we dip
 Young hogs creepin thru the fog
 Ready for combat, just me and my dogg
 Fuck y'all, other niggas all on my dick
 For the money and bitches ain't really down to do shit
 Another lyrical cap into your cranium
 We known to blow shit up like nuclear uranium
 Chorus
 I explode like a nuclear warhead, wit this lyrical gang
 that I slang like cocaine, makin the crowd bang
 As we kick up more dust than a pick-up
 Assaults, murders, and armoured truck stick-up
 Cos ain't too many niggas that can fuck with these
 Gz, pumpin and dumpin them ridahs on fo' D's
 Wit a fo'-fo', quote I give, "busters are jokes"
 and watch the concrete smack him in his face when he smokes
 Fo' sure, I'm known like the Boyz N' The Hood
 A Menace II Society knows it's tryin me, best to knock on some wood
 I bring it back to the good hooks, wish that they could fuck wit this
 lyrical microphone assassination hood spittin
 .45 hollow point chips at'cha chest
 The grinders penetrate a vest in the wild, wild West
 So break north, south or east, retreat and meet defeat
 It's West Coast, ready for combat, strapped wit heat
 Chorus