[Intro: Khao]
It's your boy Khao, man
West Coast
We here
Let's go
(Khao)
[Chorus 1]
This that shit that make a n***a throw the West up
Black, brown, red, blue, n***a, throw your set up
Gettin' money, got that attitude, don't step close
Unified, bankin' in your city, it's the West Coast
[Verse 1: Problem]
(Ay, yo, Problem)
The homegirls crackin' cards (Cards) n***as flockin'
Mercedes-Benz hittin' corners, these bitches watchin'
Dirty choppers, n***as yacked up, potted up
Best be official, tatted tears, bullet tissue
Wipe that right off, made a play for like a hundred-K
P Jay to the Bay and fucked it right off, yea (I'm out)
Black Osama, Chach-Comptown Obama
Red Kool-Aid, n***as lockin' with they baby mamas
Yea, Problem, yea, that's me, champ
Tequila got me bent like knee-cap (Ice) no cap
Mixed with Dom Pérignon with that Cognac (Uh-oh)
Fake shit, I'on't know that
Your new bitch my throwback
[Verse 2: Nipsey Hussle]
(Nipsey)
I'm in the Forbes, and I ain't relaxin'
I been to war as a famous rapper (Hey)
I made mills, then I paid my taxes
Then I wifed up my favorite actress
And post pictures on vacation with a lengthy caption
Couple pies, they ain't came from Gladys
I'm surprised I escaped the madness
I grew up under Tiny Cobby, they respect, they was savage
Can't believe I carried Fatt's casket, look
I'm in my feelin's, but it ain't compassion
Six shots, but I ain't relaxin'
I got mouths to feed and they expect a sandwich
[?] down, I respect the balance
This shit real, but I accept the challenge
We shot it out in broad day, and never checked the cameras
Protect records on these phones just to check this cabbage
My slum burnt, it's forever scalin'
We all like this, how I grew up, caught slippin', it was never passion
(Ha-ha)
[Chorus 2: Mozzy]
We official, ask us about us, whole team official (Westside)
Street credentials, automatic street sweep potential
(Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, westside)
We official, ask us about us, whole team official (Westside)
Street credentials, automatic street sweep potential
(Throw it up, throw it up)
[Verse 3: The Game]
(Game, let's go)
I got murder on my mind, hollow tips on my nine
Chronic smoke in my eyes, but I can bust it if I'm blind
Bitch, I'm on one, tatted up, my baby mama trippin'
Got me whippin' the Benz, dippin', my trigger finger itchin'
Got my drawstrings pulled tight, my Chucks on Suge Knight
My braids on O-Dog, the homie said it's on sight
So, pop goes the weasel, if I see you then your body drop
That mouth he couldn't keep closed, that's what got him shot
Westside the set though, n***as is to the [?]
My strap and Bompton—two things I never let go
Tell twelve, "Fuck 'em," tell my mama I love her
She make the best potatoes and keep the fuckin' barrel smothered
I'm a killer, n***a (Whoo)
[Verse 4: Snoop Dogg]
I'm a Steeler n***a
Black and gold to the pole, ring-ding-dong
Big King Kong
Knockin' out the teacher like I'm [?]
As the beat goes on
Don't try and catch it, scratch, or match it
My homies layin' low under your mattress
Tactics of a Navy Seal, my baby real
She keep me up on it, you n***as don't want it
I been grippin' since the '80s, when the game was real shady
Never leave my house without my deuce five, that's my lady
She been with me a long time, 'bout—380
Then I got that mothafuckin' nine milly, baby
Now, Felicia said, Keisha said, Alicia said
They all birds waitin' on a piece of bread
(Ha-ha)
[Chorus 2: Mozzy]
We official, ask us about us, whole team official (Westside)
Street credentials, automatic street sweep potential
(Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, westside)
We official, ask us about us, whole team official (Westside)
Street credentials, automatic street sweep potential
(Throw it up, throw it up)
[Chorus 1]
This that shit that make a n***a throw the West up
Black, brown, red, blue, n***a, throw your set up (Hey)
Gettin' money, got that attitude, don't step close
Unified, bankin' in your city, it's the West Coast
[Verse 5: Mozzy]
(Mozzy, let's go)
[?] [?] when you broke and n***as need a pistol
Your brother blasted outta state, and he ain't leave a pistol? (Huh?)
Feed it crystal, let [?] run the G.F.E. (Yea)
My young life [?] go behind a PS3
Lemon juice inside the recipe, the fiends love it
We needed onions, they only funded us double ups (Hey)
We was up and comin', the tweakers ain't never come to us
Three for twenty-five is the only reason they fuck with us (Ooh-ooh)
Blue Mercedes, the gator, and now we down to run (Hey)
Never take a trip with a Demon, they never gun enough (Hey)
Never [?], but the homie never had to bump me up (Hey)
I love you if you dropped on the bail when the [?] cuffed me up
[Verse 6: G Perico]
Yea, look (Let's go)
Westside gangsta, young rich gang banger
Got arrested, bailed out before I hit the station
Back to the spot, we wade deep on the block
We gon' fight and shoot, whether it's even or not
I'm just a Broadway baby, young Broadway gangsta
It's a [?], on the real, so ain't no enemies hatin' (Hey)
Truce fleece blanket, crip blue bangin'
Quarter million-dollar car, still around the hood hangin'
Still pullin' up on haters, you don't like it then come fade me
Ballin' gettin' paper (Hey) goin' crazy (Oh)
See me in traffic, got that shit I be rappin'
I ain't under no pressure, that's why these n***as mad at it
It's G
[Chorus 1]
This that shit that make a n***a throw the West up
West up, west up, west up, west up
(Let the Kessler speak, man)
[Verse 7: E-40]
(E-40)
Dirty deeds, cleanin' my pistol and eatin' sunflower seeds
Hella keys like a custodian, or should I say "janitor" (Janitor)
I'm a expert at gettin' money, hell, I am a amateur (Amateur)
Your bitch keep callin' my phone, she want me to manage her (Manage her)
I told her to leave me alone, I'm off this bottle (Bottle)
Not only that, but I heard she got blue waffle (Blue waffle)
I wouldn't fuck that ho with your dick, fool
I'm a fixture, a factor, a ball-oholic
Whatever I want I bought it, you name it I got it
Turn it and flip in my pockets, they're talkin' the town mob
Ridin' around with a [?] with my godkids
[Interlude]
(Hold up, before we end this off, we gotta take it back to where it all started)
(The OG, Ice-T)
(What the fuck?)
[Verse 8: Ice-T]
Don't ask, gray beard's black mass
Crack that safe fast, pistol-whip your bitch ass
OG, old n***a, 40 cal., hair trigger
Fed more fuckin' fans than FEMA, diss me and I'll come to see ya
Just because you're still alive, certain thought the beef died
The big homie sent a gite, greenlight's on for life
Still on my bullshit, Black Ghost full of Crips
Want some, get some, pop off, get done
(Brr-ahh)
A hundred round drum on a handgun
Pushed the line, get tacked, shots call from super max
Now you got the drama, what you wanna do?
I couldn't stop my n***as if I wanted to
[Chorus 1]
This that shit that make a n***a throw the West up
Black, brown, red, blue, n***a, throw your set up
Gettin' money, got that attitude, don't step close
Unified, bankin' in your city, it's the West Coast
(You're welcome)
