Westside Gunn – Super Kick Party Lyrics

Westside Gunn – Super Kick Party Lyrics

Super Kick Party Lyrics By Westside Gunn

“Super Kick Party” is the third track on Westside Gunn’s 10th HWH project, it’s one of many tracks in his catalog named after pro wrestling terms. In this case, the title is a reference to a catchphrase/theme music of The Young Bucks (Matt and Nick Jackson), a tag team currently wrestling for AEW who is known for their fast-paced style and repeated use of superkicks. Gunn is a known wrestling fan, constantly dropping multiple references in his music, and is seen constantly sitting front row at shows for different promotions.

[Intro]
—say as soon as we’re born, we are dying
(Conductor, Conductor, we have a problem)
Ayo, ayo

[Verse]
Who that bitch right there with the fatty?
How you in the hood with your jewels and no ratch-y? (Ah)
Anybody say that they ill, I surpass thee
We run the streets and jail, we some athletes
F6 elephant drum out the backseat (Brr)
Actually, make it a headshot, it’s that deep (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Pateks over the wheel, hobo bags draggin’ through Maxfield
You lack still, the Glock or the MAC wheel? (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
Fur on the Marni slippers, makin’ a crack deal
Judge wanna send me up the hill like Jack, Jill (Ah)
To catch your life truly up
We dance with pants, wipe bricks off with Louis scarfs
Mossberg in the old nugget, lookin’ like movie stars
My starter lineup got five shooting guards, you fuck niggas is moulinyans (Brr)
Pipe down, pikers
Pucci overalls look like scars on a lifer (Ah)
Breakdancin’ in the mess hall, put the knives up (Ah)
Where CO Kennedy at? I might wife her
Hold hands on the rec yard, I’ll be home soon
Came through, stretch 911 off the showroom (Skrrt)
Soundin’ like Chucky up in Sachs, I got dope moves
Wipin’ bricks off the same stove we cook soul food (Woo)
Rockin’ all Maison, gracious, beloved by the freebasers basin’ (Ah)
You back in the hood, how your name in them statements? (Ah)
Dippidy-doo-dah, your brains on the pavement (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Nine in the shoebox, the Ronnie Fieg Asics (Woo)
Bitches sendin’ tongue emojis, wanna taste it (Woo)
My double R got Tom Ford drapes (Woo)
Your man used to rock figaro chain and Movado (Uh-huh)
Now it’s Hublots, suntans from Cabo
Focus on new goals, squares in the Tahoe
We make it these three thousand miles, we be Ralo
Redbone bitch pussy fat, look like Latto (Ah, woo)
Scores in a McQueen button-up, I look like Pablo (Ah)
West lane, Mike Amiri, thirty-four Flackos
I don’t know who did the shit so I shot both (Boom, boom, boom)

[Outro]
(Conductor, we have a problem)
(Damn, Conductor, where’d you find this?)