WC - Fuckin’ Wit Uh House Party lyrics

"LA! Californ-IA!"

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, aka 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 niggas 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 motherfuckers is losin
In nineteen-ninety-eight
Ain't too many niggas trucin'
So what makes you think I'm
Comin out tonight ho?
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 "LA! Californ-IA!"
Uh huh, uh huh, fuckin with house party
"LA! Californ-IA!" shit ain't safe
"LA! Californ-IA!"
Kids don't try this at home
"LA! Californ-IA!"

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 fuck
Straight trippin off 40's, hoodrats and shit
With niggas 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 niggas ridin on me
What that whoopty-woop like?
I felt like I straight mark
Walkin in the house
Gettin punked by niggas too young
To get in Magic Mountain
So I rolled back on em, right on the spot
Told em, "Fuck your set!" That's when I
Heard the music stop

"Hey nigga what that stand
For on your arm?" "Ni-niggas havin cash"
"You mean niggas havin a collision"
"Get that nigga!"
"Don't let that nigga fall!
Don't let him fall!"
Stretched out on the flo', gettin fucked up
All I saw was knucklehammers and
Bottom of niggas Chuck's bitches screamin
"Kick that nigga ass for me!"
He's teemin on my dome
Ain't no motherfuckin sympathy
I grabbed my heat and started dumpin
Hit the back do'
Scotch free loc and who did I see?
Octavia, pussy wet, drunk on the ground
Passed out on her stomach with
Her pants hangin down

"LA! Californ-IA!"

Fuckin with a house party!
"LA! Californ-IA!"

"LA! Californ-IA!"

I don't know about where y'all from
But it ain't goin down where I'm from
Fuckin with a house party!
"LA! Californ-IA!"
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 Berry Farm
Called the ho 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 niggas
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
Fuckin with these parties and
These punk ass bitches fuck a house party!
"LA! Californ-IA!"

YouknowhatI'msayin? Fuckin with a
House party! "LA! Californ-IA!"

YouknowhatI'msayin? "LA! Californ-IA!"
Ay Toones, tell these motherfuckers
Fuckin with a house party
"LA! Californ-IA!"

Motherfuckin bandana swingin

"LA! Californ-IA!" "LA! Californ-IA!"
Y'all know what time it is
Bandana season loc, ha hah
"LA! Californ-IA!"
Fuckin with a house party!
"LA! Californ-IA!"
Fuckin with a house party!