WC


Fuckin' Wit Uh House Party Lyrics

"L.A.! Californ-I-A!" (repeat 4X)
It all started on a Saturday night, I was at the Tilt
Faded off a eightball, when I got the phone call
I recognized the voice right off the bat
Octavia, a.k.a. the neighbor-hood-rat
I used to run up in her but I had to play broke
Cause the bitch was known to twist mo' than hundred
spokes
Talkin bout a party she was givin and niggaz was dippin
She wanted me and my crew to come through and
I couldn't find CJ, Toones was out of town
And Mack and Cube wasn't out nowhere to be found
And all that bendin solo shit, played out with Cooley
High
Even in the movie Damon caught a black eye bitch!
Ain't no peace treaty motherf**kers is losin
In nineteen-ninety-eight, ain't too many niggaz chosin
So what makes you think I'm comin out tonight hoe?
You must be on Triple D: Dick, Dope and Dynamite
She kept claimin that security was tight
And if I came, we'd both be comin tonight
So I jumped off my kizznouch, grabbed a coat and my
coat
Picturin my dick all down this bitch throat
Loaded up my heater, took the black nina
Jumped in my rizzide, headed for the Westside
Rollin in the rigga with the naughty
Bumpin "Flashlight" fool, headed for the party
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Uh-huh, uh-huh, f**kin with house party
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Shit ain't safe
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Kids don't try this at home
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
It's goin down, the music got the whole block blastin
And all I see is titties and bitches with big asses
I couldn't make it through, I had to go back
And park around the corner cause the street was packed
So now I'm bailin to the party, eyes damn near shut
Heater on my side, plus I'm high as f**k
Straight trippin off 40's, hoodrats and shit
With niggaz names tatted on they ankles and wrists
And all these Cutlasses next to empty bottles of
Hennesey
An early indication of gangbangin activity
Got to the do', no security in sight
Just niggaz ridin on me, what that whoopty-woop like?
I felt like I straight mark, walkin in the house
Gettin punked by niggaz too young to get in Magic
Mountain
So I rolled back on em, right on the spot
Told em, "f**k your set!" That's when I heard the music
stop
"Hey nigga what that stand for on your arm?"
"Ni-niggaz havin cash"
"You mean niggaz havin a collision"
"Get that nigga!"
"Don't let that nigga fall!
Don't let him fall!"
Stretched out on the flo', gettin f**ked up
All I saw was knucklehammers and bottom of niggaz
Chuck's
Bitches screamin, "Kick that nigga ass for me!"
He's teemin on my dome, ain't no motherf**kin sympathy
I grabbed my heat and started dumpin, hit the back do'
Scot free loc and who did I see?
Octavia, pussy wet, drunk on the ground
Passed out on her stomach with her pants hangin down
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Shit ain't no joke loc, f**kin with a house party!
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Niggaz is gettin gunned down
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Ha hah, I don't know about where y'all from
But it ain't goin down where I'm from
f**kin with a house party!
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Shit is real, check it out
Woke up the next day, little cut on my arm
One on my eyes and head, more knots than Barry Vaughn
Called the hoe up and cussed her punk ass out
She had the nerve to ask why a nigga turned the party
out?
Nigga I scream on that bitch, I banged on that bitch
Nutted up on that bitch, hung up on the bitch
Stank-ass skank got niggaz crossin enemy lines
I should've stayed home and listened to my first mind
Cause now a nigga's layin down mad at the world
Lookin like the Elephant Man with a jheri curl
Sittin at killa King with forty-fo' stitches
f**kin with these parties and these punk ass bitches
f**k a house party!
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Ha hah, youknowhatI'msayin? f**kin with a house
party!
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} This shit is real loc, youknowhatI'msayin?
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Ay Toones, tell these motherf**kers
f**kin with a house party
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Ain't nuttin but motherf**kin bandana swingin
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} Y'all know what time it is
Bandana season loc, ha hah
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} f**kin with a house party!
"L.A.! Californ-I-A!"
{WC} f**kin with a house party!

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Songwriter(s): George Clinton, Frank Waddy, William Collins, William Calhoun
Publisher(s): Bridgeport Music Publishing

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