Released on September 5, 2000

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(*talking*)

I told y'all I told y'all, y'all didn't see me coming this way did ya

Timbaland, Mack 10, Dub-C, Ice Cube

Let me tell y'll something


[Chorus: Timbland]

Hey (hey), who got more money than us

Who got them thangs, to make the chicks blush

Nobody (nobody), nobody (nobody), nobody (nobody)

Hey (hey), who got more women than us

Who got them cars, at how much

Nobody (nobody), nobody (nobody) you better ask somebody


[Mack 10]

I went from taking what I want, to cash advancing

And from small time hustling, to Bentleys and mansions

And ain't a nigga that I know, that want it all like me

And ain't a nigga on my coast, that can ball like me

I move the crowd, and give these busters visuals

Ain't gotta hear about what I got, see it in the physical

I be that genuine authentic, and you's a decoy

And I keep shit rolling, like a 80's d-boy

I put a rumor to rest, like bed time

Mack done did more balling, than a nigga with fed time

So go ask them bitches over there, what the deal is

And go ask them niggas over there, who the real is

And watch the expression, when they conversating

And if Mack name done come out they mouth, well then they hating

Cause I rock the show, till the crowd stand up

Now bring the hook in Tim, make em throw they hands up like


[Chorus]


[Ice Cube]

I'm coming through, with a gang of bitches

Tell them hoes, that you ain't gotta lie to kick it

I'm in a Rolls, with my nigga Mr. Dub-C

Could give a fuck, if you punk niggas love me

That's how a thug be, ball like rugby

From this industry, bring on the misery

No sympathy, nigga insult to injury

Now who can fuck this Westside chemistry, (nobody nobody)

You motherfuckers, can't do it like us

Motherfuckers, ain't been through it like us

It's the brainiac, maniac and the shadiac

While you trick niggas, trying to bring the 80's back

Where the ladies at, we can just fuck with em

Drop em off, while you suckers get stuck with em

It's the phantom of the dark, nigga smart

Westside Connection, corrupt like Rampart


[Chorus]


[WC]

Aw-di-dum, aw-di-dum

No matter the weather they claim, I'm fading all the dumb

Ready to get em hit em-hit em, waving my dubs

Barking G walking, slipping through the club

For my Crips and dogs, and dogs and Crips

And fools with big bodies, that cut dogs with uri-cips

Stolen chain wearers, quick to bury a bird carriers

Coming from the number one crew, in the area

Back grinding riding, pushing design and all rides

For the Mack to the 1 to the 0, time nigga the ghetto Heisman

Oh my god he's back, turn it up turn it up

Where my riders at, all huddle up huddle up

Dub-C, I spit lethal

And over from the rap group, as big as the Beatles

Haters Thank you