We like to murder in combat, war on the streets  .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