Westside Gunn – $500 Ounces Lyrics

$500 Ounces By Westside Gunn

Yeah, yeah, Kane train
Uh, mic check, check
Yeah, mic check, check
Uh, yeah, yeah, mic check, check
Yeah, uh, uh, mic check, check
Yeah, uh, n—-, check, check
Yeah, yeah, yeah

It’s been a long time since I tasted
Workin’ that hot plate, cookin’ in my homeboy basement
And Lambo knocked the coke off the table, that n—- waste it
I showed him the new straps, the AK with the green laser (Bing, bing, bing)
I’m on some street s—, my baby mama tweet s— to stir up my haters
I’m like, “Why she wanna stick me for my paper?”
But f— it, that’s life, it’s what you make it, one day you gon’ meet your maker
Kobe died, I swear a n—- might cry when I watch the Lakers, damn
All our mamas would watch us, boy, we was neighbors
But how you look a n—- mom in the face when you shot her baby? (Bow)
I got skeletons in my closet, right next to Balenciaga
Call me Fred DiBiase, garage is a million dollars, my nogga
Yeah, it’s just the way that God be plannin’ s—
I drop a load, I take a load off, that’s load management
And last lap, I dropped the ho off and bagged a Spanish b—-
Pulled out the d—, she snort the coke off, I’m livin’ lavishly

Yeah, Kane, huh
B—- n—-, you know what it is, baby, yeah
Told you from the go
Told you from the get go
You ain’t gotta go home, but you gotta go

Uh, ain’t no Ls on my jacket
The MAC-11 hit your melon and crack it (Crack it)
Ain’t no pads for that in that medicine cabinet (No)
Can’t mess with whatever’s in that gelatin tablet (F— that)
Ten metal fragments can flip your skeleton backwards (Flip ’em)
All you seen after that was blackness (Mm)
This ain’t no backpack s—, he slangs half a brick
B—-, you need to ease back a bit, the trench has cactus pins (Ow)
The seats in the Benz Lenny Kravitz skin, don’t get your cabbage split (Tan s—)
It don’t matter what establishment, we in it (We gettin’ shipped the f— out)
Always get the biggest chicken wing, you don’t get to eat on one onion ring
At least a hundred Jesus links underneath the mink
Yellow Bugatti look like a bumblebee
Compressor on the front to muffle the heat
The submachine gun, it come with the beam amongst other things that’s unseen
To run with me, you need sunscreen cream, see I’m covered in bling (Bling)
M———–, ain’t no shade, even under the trees where monkeys swing (Ah-ah-ah)
The m——– money green, I’m runnin’ the company like a drug ring
Livin’ comfortably off of gut instinct
That fell upon me once I was done with the streets (Uh)
You still scheme in public, P, let me bring you up to speed
You get your wig spun like a tumbleweed in Belize, I get on the beat and bleed (Bleed)
Sacrifice of livin’ and bein’ to please deities
Them were VVs, flood the big Nefertiti piece (Ayo)

I had the rusty forty-five, I had the MAC, too (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr, I had the MAC too, brr)
You hang with a rat, you a rat, too (You’s a rat, too)
We used to chip in on the big, bag it up, that’s my rent
You take a shift, I take a shift, the feds come, raise my kids
Take my phone, keep the licks goin’, never bust a brick open (Ah)
12-12 baggers was baggin’, flaggin’
Rick Owens over pots, hand me some ice, he left the fridge open
I’m tryna see my kids grow up, y’all n—–’ ribs showin’
God made light, Dolce Gabbana on my A-like day and night (Day and night)
My young n—–’ll take your life (Boom, boom, ah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
East side n—–’ll never change (They’ll never change)
Brick come through and spill your brains (Brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr)