“I felt the Hitler Wears Hermes 7 project was the best project of ‘19, and there used to be arguments if it was mine or if it was Bandana. Gibbs was the homie and Benny was on tour with him, and it just made sense. And Roc and I been making songs forever. Alchemist played that beat and I heard Gibbs instantly. Me and him already said we was going to work—we just really never did. So I reached out to him and like a real G, he did that for me. And then once I heard Gibbs, I’m like, I hear Roc, too. I didn’t even tell him Gibbs was on it because I just wanted Roc to do Roc. I never overthink, bro. That’s why all my projects I do in two days. I never overthink. I just did a joint last night for the homie IDK. He sent it. I did that shit in 15 minutes, bro.“
– Westside Gunn, Complex
$500 Ounces
Westside Gunn Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Uh, mic check, check
Yeah, mic check, check
Uh, yeah, yeah, mic check, check
Yeah, uh, uh, mic check, check
Yeah, uh, nigga, check, check
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Workin' that hot plate, cookin' in my homeboy basement
And Lambo knocked the coke off the table, that nigga waste it
I showed him the new straps, the AK with the green laser (bling)
I'm on some street shit, my baby mama tweet shit to stir up my haters
I'm like, "Why she wanna stick me for my paper? ", but fuck it, that's life
It's what you make it, one day you gon' meet your maker
Kobe died, I swear a nigga might cry when I watch the Lakers, damn
All our mamas would watch us, boy, we was neighbors
But how you look a nigga mom in the face when you shot her baby? (Bow)
I got skeletons in my closet, right next to Balenciaga
Call me Fred DiBiase, garage is a million dollars, my noggin
Yeah, it's just the way that God be plannin' shit
I drop a load, I take a load off, that's load management
That last lap, I dropped the ho off and bagged a Spanish bitch
Pulled out the dick, she snort the coke off, I'm livin' lavishly
Yeah, Kane, huh, bitch nigga, you know what it is, baby, yeah
Told you from the go
Told you from the get go
You ain't gotta go home, but you gotta go
Uh, ain't no Ls on my jacket
The MAC-11 hit your melon and crack it (crack it)
Ain't no pads for that in that medicine cabinet (no)
Can't mess with whatever's in that gelatin tablet (fuck that)
Ten metal fragments can flip your skeleton backwards (flip 'em)
All you seen after that was blackness (mmm)
This ain't no backpack shit, he slangs half a brick
Bitch, you need to ease back a bit, the trench has cactus pins (ow)
The seats in the Benz Lenny Kravitz skin, don't get your cabbage split (tan shit)
It don't matter what establishment, we in it (we gettin' shipped the fuck out)
Always get the biggest chicken wing, you don't get to eat on one onion ring
At least a hundred Jesus links underneath the mink
Yellow Bugatti, look like a bumblebee, compressor on the front to muffle the heat
The submachine gun, it come with the beam amongst other things that's unseen
To run with me, you need sunscreen cream, see I'm covered in bling (bling)
Motherfucker, ain't no shade, even under the trees where monkeys swing (ah-ah-ah)
The murder want money green, I'm runnin' the company like a drug ring
Livin' comfortably off of gutter and stank
That fell upon me once I was done with the streets (uh)
You still scheme in public, P, let me bring you up to speed
You get your wig spun like a tumbleweed in Belize, I get on the beat and bleed (bleed)
Sacrifice of livin' and bein' to please deities
Them were VVs, flood the big Nefertiti piece
Ayo, I had the rusty .45, I had the MAC too
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr, I had the MAC too, brr)
You hang with a rat, you a rat, too (you's a rat, too)
We used to chip in on the big, bag it up, that's my rent
You take a shift, I take a shift, the feds come, raise my kids
Take my phone, keep the licks goin', never bust a brick open (ah)
Twelve, twelve baggers was baggin', flaggin'
Rick Owens over pots, hand me some ice, he left the fridge open
I'm tryna see my kids grow up, y'all niggas' ribs showin'
God made light, Dolce Gabbana on my A-like day and night (day and night)
My young niggas'll take your life (boom, boom, ah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Eastside niggas'll never change (they'll never change)
Brick come through and spill your brains (brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr)
In Westside Gunn's song $500 Ounces, he reminisces on his past in the drug game and where it has brought him today. The first verse speaks on how he started off selling drugs using a hot plate in his friend's basement. He shares a moment where someone knocked over a table of cocaine, which exemplifies the dangerous lifestyle he was living. He also addresses his haters, including his baby's mother, who he believes tries to stir up drama on social media. Westside Gunn understands that life can be unpredictable, and death can come at any time, shown when he mentions Kobe Bryant's passing. He even offers some advice about how to approach life, emphasizing how important it is to make the best of it. Westside Gunn's verse mentions the violence and personal losses he encountered while selling drugs. He spent time with people in his community, including his neighbours and their moms, helping him build strong connections. However, when drugs became involved, people started to turn on one another, resulting in lost lives.
The second verse expresses Westside Gunn's current lifestyle, living lavishly and maintaining his success. He describes how he owns a million-dollar garage and a collection of designer clothes (including Balenciaga and Lenny Kravitz skin). He is living life with luxury sports cars, such as a yellow Bugatti. Along with his immense wealth, he is heavily into the drug business. He mentions how he is running his company like a drug ring, and it has brought him a lot of financial success. Those close to him, such as his team and fellow dealers, have to be prepared to face the violent side of the drug business, as Westside Gunn has a submachine gun with a beam among other things. Despite his success, he wants to make sure that he doesn't forget his past, and mentions how he used to sell drugs on a much smaller level. Finally, his verse ends on a warning to those back in his old stomping ground in Buffalo to stay in line, as the people there don't tolerate snitches and the potential violent consequences.
Overall, $500 Ounces speaks on Westside Gunn's past and present experiences in the drug game. He mentions how his community changed with the introduction of drugs, and the senseless violence it brought with it. On the other hand, he has been able to thrive successfully with his drug empire and his luxury lifestyle, even with the inherent risks involved. He seems to have found a way to embrace the rawness of the street life while maintaining a newfound sense of success, and expects those who wish to be around him to abide by his way of life.
Line by Line Meaning
It's been a long time since I tasted
It's been a while since I last sampled drugs
Workin' that hot plate, cookin' in my homeboy basement
I was cooking drugs in my friend's basement
And Lambo knocked the coke off the table, that nigga waste it
My friend Lambo accidentally spilled cocaine off the table
I showed him the new straps, the AK with the green laser (bling)
I showed him my new guns, including an AK with a green laser sight
I'm on some street shit, my baby mama tweet shit to stir up my haters
I'm involved in illegal activities, and my ex-girlfriend is trying to cause trouble for me on social media
I'm like, 'Why she wanna stick me for my paper?', but fuck it, that's life
I don't understand why my ex-girlfriend is trying to take my money, but I accept that it's just a part of life
It's what you make it, one day you gon' meet your maker
Life is what you make it, and eventually, everyone will die
Kobe died, I swear a nigga might cry when I watch the Lakers, damn
I am saddened by the death of Kobe Bryant and it may make me cry when I watch a Lakers game
All our mamas would watch us, boy, we was neighbors
Our mothers would watch us play when we were neighbors
But how you look a nigga mom in the face when you shot her baby? (Bow)
How can someone look a mother in the face after killing her son?
I got skeletons in my closet, right next to Balenciaga
I have secrets or shameful things in my past, next to expensive designer clothes
Call me Fred DiBiase, garage is a million dollars, my noggin
I compare myself to wealthy wrestler Ted DiBiase, and boast about my expensive car collection
I drop a load, I take a load off, that's load management
I take breaks after working hard, similar to load management in sports
That last lap, I dropped the ho off and bagged a Spanish bitch
I dropped off a prostitute and then picked up a Spanish woman to have sex with
Pulled out the dick, she snort the coke off, I'm livin' lavishly
I took out my penis and the woman snorted cocaine off of it, showing how I live luxuriously
Ain't no Ls on my jacket
I have not suffered any losses
The MAC-11 hit your melon and crack it (crack it)
If I shoot you with a MAC-11 gun, it will crack your skull
Ain't no pads for that in that medicine cabinet (no)
There are no bandages or medication in the medicine cabinet to treat a gunshot wound
Can't mess with whatever's in that gelatin tablet (fuck that)
Don't mess with the dangerous drugs that are in that gelatin capsule
Ten metal fragments can flip your skeleton backwards (flip 'em)
If you are shot with ten metal bullets, your body will fly backwards
This ain't no backpack shit, he slangs half a brick
This is not the type of music for backpack-wearing, intellectual people; it's for people who deal drugs
Bitch, you need to ease back a bit, the trench has cactus pins (ow)
You need to calm down and not get too close, as my coat has cactus pins that can hurt you
The seats in the Benz Lenny Kravitz skin, don't get your cabbage split (tan shit)
The seats in my Benz are made of Lenny Kravitz's skin, and don't spill anything that might ruin the leather (spoiled milk)
It don't matter what establishment, we in it (we gettin' shipped the fuck out)
No matter where we are, we are getting kicked out or are in danger of being caught and sent to jail
Always get the biggest chicken wing, you don't get to eat on one onion ring
Always make sure you get the largest and best item, because you won't be satisfied with something small and cheap
At least a hundred Jesus links underneath the mink
I have many expensive Jesus-themed necklaces underneath my fur coat
Yellow Bugatti, look like a bumblebee, compressor on the front to muffle the heat
My yellow sports car looks like a bumblebee, and has a device on the front to reduce engine heat and improve performance
The submachine gun, it come with the beam amongst other things that's unseen
My submachine gun has a laser sight, plus other features that cannot be seen
To run with me, you need sunscreen cream, see I'm covered in bling (bling)
If you hang out with me, you need to wear sunscreen due to the glare from all of my jewelry
Motherfucker, ain't no shade, even under the trees where monkeys swing (ah-ah-ah)
Don't try to hide from me, as even under the trees where monkeys play, there is no shade
The murder want money green, I'm runnin' the company like a drug ring
People involved in murder want money just like drug dealers, and I run my business like an organized drug ring
Livin' comfortably off of gutter and stank
I am living comfortably despite coming from a low-income background
That fell upon me once I was done with the streets (uh)
I left the dangerous life of the streets and ended up with wealth and success
You still scheme in public, P, let me bring you up to speed
You are still plotting or thinking in public, P, let me update you on recent events
You get your wig spun like a tumbleweed in Belize, I get on the beat and bleed (bleed)
If you try to mess with me, you'll get your head knocked around like a tumbleweed in Belize, but when I rap, I pour my heart out
Sacrifice of livin' and bein' to please deities
People often sacrifice their lives to make their gods happy
Them were VVs, flood the big Nefertiti piece
My diamonds are high-quality, and are so shiny that they make my big Nefertiti necklace glow
Ayo, I had the rusty .45, I had the MAC too
I owned both a rusty .45 and a MAC-11 gun
You hang with a rat, you a rat, too (you's a rat, too)
If you hang out with a snitch, you are also a snitch
We used to chip in on the big, bag it up, that's my rent
We used to contribute money to purchase large amounts of drugs, which paid my rent
You take a shift, I take a shift, the feds come, raise my kids
We took turns selling drugs, but if we got caught and I went to jail, the other person would have to raise my children
Take my phone, keep the licks goin', never bust a brick open (ah)
If I get arrested, someone else should keep selling drugs, but never break into a stash of drugs (which could lead to more trouble)
Twelve, twelve baggers was baggin', flaggin'
A group of people were packing and selling drugs
Rick Owens over pots, hand me some ice, he left the fridge open
I am wearing expensive Rick Owens clothing while cooking drugs, and someone else has left the refrigerator open and is not paying attention to their task
I'm tryna see my kids grow up, y'all niggas' ribs showin'
I want to live long enough to watch my children grow up, while other people are struggling to survive and are malnourished
God made light, Dolce Gabbana on my A-like day and night (day and night)
God created light, and I can afford to wear Dolce Gabbana clothing both during the day and at night
My young niggas'll take your life (boom, boom, ah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
My younger associates are capable of killing you
Eastside niggas'll never change (they'll never change)
People from the Eastside will always act a certain way
Brick come through and spill your brains (brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr)
If a kilogram of drugs is brought in (a 'brick'), someone will be violently killed
Lyrics © INGROOVES MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Written by: Alvin Lamar Worthy, Fredrick Jamel Tipton, Rakeem Calief Myer
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@LEGIONOFKNICKSPODCAST
Roc and Freddie...been begging for an album from these two hitmen for a while. Need to hear them on alchemist/madlib/knxwledge production. Stop playing guys. This song was glorious. Beat reminded me on some 1920s hitmen sht. Goodness gracious.
Roc Marciano - De Niro
Freddie - Pacino
Alchemist - Harvey Keital
WSG - Christopher Walken
Please someone tell me the sample to this glory?
@ImDezi
That "Mmm" before the horns has me LOSING MY SHIT "MMM" HORNS ON TOP OF BARS I CANT
@PTJunkieCoach
Gotta hear the extended intros.🔥🔥🔥
@aaronjones3504
I love the horns
@mikethurman8304
Mannnnnnn you ain't never lied
@getnoscoped864
HA- mmm
@alaskan2001
This beat is something else. Very smooth and humble. The soundtrack to when you are on your way to do something you know is wrong but its necessary.
@cuchulainn162
Godamn you win and deserve fao Schwarz
@thegascompany1051
Summed it up perfectly
@kiavi138
The alchemist is the producer
@FatherNatureCNY
I feel that with everything Freddie Gibbs for some reason