[Intro: The Game]
"It ain't never motherfuckin' cold enough to rock no mother fucken chinchilla out here n***a and timbos to heavy to run from the fucken police man in my motherfuckin' Converse"

[Chorus]
In killa Cali we don't wear timbos or furs
All stars khaki Chuck Taylors what's the word
Keep a gun on me and I love NY but
It's California till I die one more time
In killa kali we don't rock timbos or fur
All stars khaki Chuck Taylors what's the word
Push that range rover when I'm in NY
But I love the way Impalas drive

[Verse 1: The Game]
I take the fat laces in n out them Converse
I put them hollow tips and a n***a if he Converse
About me and my n***ar and how we use to have priors like richer
Yeah I paint that picture
I use to have visions of retiring like jigga
Five albums later acquiring those figures
I'm that n***a if I don't get no bigger
I'm back in the hood lettin the 4-0 flicker
From a brown paper bag 4-0 sipper and push a rock without knowing no clippers
On my nephews life I never met no n***a rich or poor n***a that couldn't make a O bigger

[Chorus]
In killa Cali we don't wear timbos or furs
All stars khaki Chuck Taylors what's the word
Keep a gun on me and I love NY but
It's California till I die one more time
In killa kali we don't rock timbos or fur
All stars khaki Chuck Taylors what's the word
Push that range rover when I'm in NY
But I love the way Impalas drive
[Verse 2: Billboard]
It's just me Chuck and some n***a I'm raised with
First niggers red chucks, New York pavement
Whips and chains like we on that slave shit
Never seen Queens Bridge on that brave shit
N***as see the grave quick livin the fast life
In cali we burnt out new yorkers mad trif
Tells n***as once so they don't ask twice
Ain't that right Chuck?
I'm a hot non 7 never been out of compton
If it wasn't Game I probably never see Harlem
We goona take jones to the knickers in garden let him fuck a blood bitch in a dirty apartment
Niggers know forvidi on that hard shit
But don't don't know Billboard give em a hard clip
Sometime revolvers no shells no nothin
And I love the east coast but fuck Joe Buddens

[Chorus]
In killa Cali we don't wear timbos or furs
All stars khaki Chuck Taylors what's the word
Keep a gun on me and I love NY but
It's California till I die one more time
In killa kali we don't rock timbos or fur
All stars khaki Chuck Taylors what's the word
Push that range rover when I'm in NY
But I love the way Impalas drive
[Outro: Billboard]
Man it ain't shit like being a Black Wall Street soilder out here in killa kali the west side of Compton you know what Im saying Ice cream trucks bad traffic swap meets sticky green coat club white tees Chuck Tallers n***a dickies it ain't nothin like it killa Cali baby Chuck Taylor and The Billboard, Black Wall Streets finest
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