[Verse 1: Jay Rock]
Mothafucka this is Watts, California, Nickerson Gardens
Follow me home back to my project apartment
Land of the palm trees, buying weed, we smoking
Home of the low-lows, 6-4's, we rollin
Chuck Taylor's and Nikes, wife beaters and white tees
Up in the Bay area, boys gettin hyphy
Los Angeles where them boys rocking them colors hard
Running from one time, we ain't living behind them bars
Take you on Crenshaw, then show you how to ride a car
Hit a couple of switches, you won't have to buy a bra
Take you on Slauson, I'm flossin, lookin like a star
Witta bad bitch with ass and cash in her bra
Pocket full of cash, we smash, we all at the mall
Hit a swapmeet, snatch some khakis up off the wall
Turn your music up cus we don't give a fuck about the law
Only Lord knows, this is California soul

[Chorus: The Game]
C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-A
My name rang in MIA, I'm the talk of New York
Down in ATL, they smell me, so ain't shit n***as could tell me
Ask in Mo-town, they'll tell you how it go down
Ain't no California love
We California thugs, we throw California slugs
So throw up a California dub
[Verse 2: Jay Rock]
Mothafucka this is Watts, California, Nickerson Gardens
Follow me home back to my project apartment
Gotta get money homey, we hustle regardless
Changin my number n***a the streets steady callin, but
Moneys my target, nobodys flawless
Step in my building still got the work under my carpet
Still living heartless, rats, roaches crawlin
Killa Killa Cali, plenty souls deparment
South Central active, gang bang capitol
Bloods and Crips runnin the city dawg, it's factual
What set you claim? Little homey they askin you
Wrong color, wrong sign, boy they blastin you
And when you passin though better have a pass with u
Because these boys in the hood they'll casket you
Nothin but the truth is what I'm givin you
Lord knows, the life of a California soul

[Chorus: The Game]
C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-A
My name rang in MIA, I'm the talk of New York
Down in ATL, they smell me, so ain't shit n***as could tell me
Ask in Mo-town, they'll tell you how it go down
Ain't no California love
We California thugs, we throw California slugs
So throw up a California dub
[Verse 3: Jay Rock]
Mothafucka this is Watts, California, Nickerson Gardens
Follow me home back to my project apartment
Still in my hood on my beach cruiser, pedaling
N***as think I'm a rookie but got the heart of a veteran
N***a I'm a doctor, you hear I got that medicine
For them patients they say the go around me but that's irrelavent
Balls hangin low just like a elephant, still ridin high like a pelican
N***a I ain't studder man, I do it for the gutta men
I do it for my people on a hustle on a struggle, we go? dawg
I do it for the W, west coast my coast, Watts, California
My hood my burough, plus I gotta keep it thorough
Man I gotta keep it gangsta
That's what I am no wanksta, never that
Momma never raised a chump, watch what you sayin huh
Only Lord knows, California soul