Whose House

Lyrics

[Intro] (DJ RPM) (Dirty Money Niggas) [Chorus: Slim The Mobster] Uh, whose house is this? Money out the ying-yang, can't count that shit Stackin' dead prez, mouth to mouth that shit When they said a nigga wouldn't amount to shit Now whose house is this? Laughin' so hard, my tongue is out and shit Run your dick-sucker, keep me out that bitch 'Fore I spazz and squirt, and I'm out that bitch (RPM) [Verse 1: Slim The Mobster] Broadcastin' live from South Central Los Angeles Where the babies born scandalous The street, I keep my hand in it The gun, I keep my hand on it Niggas is gon' need bandages if I brandish it Ambulances, the chance that you make it, slim, nigga I'm good in the hood 'cause I motivated them niggas I graduated from dumb hoes and malt liquor To expensive wine and dime bitches Redlinin' the DB9 like it's my time, pimpin' Audemars with the sickest shine, quality time spendin' And you niggas is borderline bitches, that's my opinion And my niggas is ride or die, Aftermath my religion Talk loud, but I don't listen, act out and come up missin' That click-clack-pow did it, like Colin Powell did it And I'm so West Coast, OK Corral with it My new foreign car, can't pronounce that shit You fuck around, I'll Rick James a nigga couch and shit [Chorus: Slim The Mobster] Uh, whose house is this? Money out the ying-yang, can't count that shit Stackin' dead prez, mouth to mouth that shit When they said a nigga wouldn't amount to shit Now whose house is this? Laughin' so hard, my tongue is out and shit Run your dick-sucker, keep me out that bitch 'Fore I spazz and squirt, and I'm out that bitch (Give me my damn money, Dirty Money Niggas) [Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar] Broadcasting live from Compton, California, where foreigners never come Mothers are worrisome and we dislike the governor Hope these angels can cover us If the LAPD ain't do it, it was a cover-up Coroners 'bout to cover up everybody I'm serious Every shotty is sawed off and every nigga is militant At your gut like Caesareans, what? EBT cards, no credit, can't lease cars All my life, been on GR, now my life on the billboards soon Give me room, I react like a wildebeest and throw salt inside of your wound You just diabetes to me, ain't shit sweet but these hotels, homie That Crip shit got my uncles life in jail, homie So if I push the same line, they'll never forgive me Or worse than that, them niggas right around the corner might kill me I'm fightin' back when it's hard, what? No barber, my guards up The author of fallen fathers that did it without much This my house, nigga [Chorus: Slim The Mobster] Uh, whose house is this? Money out the ying-yang, can't count that shit Stackin' dead prez, mouth to mouth that shit When they said a nigga wouldn't amount to shit Now whose house is this? Laughin' so hard, my tongue is out and shit Run your dick-sucker, keep me out that bitch 'Fore I spazz and squirt, and I'm out that bitch