[Woman + man talking]
Welcome to California
Remix! Remix! Remix! Remix! Remix!
[Mack 10 talking]
Uh, West Coast, Mack 10, Sly Boogy and the rest of the homies
Look..
[Verse 1: Mack 10]
See I was raised at the gutter
And no matter what happened I got that raw cane & water
I ain't dependin' on rappin'
And I ain't wit the disrespect, watch ya mouth when ya yappin'
I grab the homies and some bullies, hit ya block and start slappin'
And I got so much aqua, my traps got floods on it
Gettin' that rubber band money and who cares if Bloods is on it?
Mack 10, one of the few West Coasters to shine
And most of them got the mainstream, the hood is mine
[Verse 2: Jayo Felony]
Man, I'm quick to tell a killer that I'm iller than he is
See, and I'm a G since it's me and my peeps, please
Look I'm the quickest no stitches, hit switches
And I love these witches that be gobblin' snobbishness
We takin' wrist watches, we be plottin' on change main
Why did I hit you up? Homie this is the gang thang
Can't hang with us gorillas, you just an orangutan
Sly and Bullet Loco gone bring these killers PAIN!
[Verse 3: Sly Boogy]
Right, alright, hold up, trip (ha ha!)
Me and my n***as came to blow up shit (yeeah)
And show these n***as how to flow that spit (yeeah)
And quit actin' like some hoe-ass tricks (Sly Boogy!)
Fool, you know who the hell it is (yeeah)
I'm clickin' up wit all my cousins and relatives
And you could roll wit us and rep yo' block
And we could show these motherfuckers how the West Coast rock!
So come on
[Chorus: Butch Cassidy, Truth Hurts] + (Sly Boogy)
Everybody all around the world (yeah)
All the little baby boys and girls (alright)
Can't sleep cause they wanna know what's goin' on in California!
All the seeds all across the globe
People comin' from coast to coast
For the show cause they wanna know what's goin' on in California!
[Verse 4: E-40]
Talk to me, I talk back, ain't no need to explain
Y'all know my name
Y'all know who this is rappin' over this steel trap
Y'all know it's the man wit the slang
Use no pedal when pushin' that cane
Everything that I ever sold in the street it was top grade
Magazines, three mics, sprinkle truth in the game, spit the venom
Every rapper got a little E-40 up in em
Every rapper off the heezy fo' sheezy
I thought you plot em wit Jigga down
For shit got down
[Verse 5: Kurupt]
Switches, bitches, chrome deep dishes
Impalas, pop collars and pop collar bones
It's California, Gangstaville, in ya mouth, all up on ya
Cologne, you California
I'm Chuck All Stars, chronic sack, skull hat, Nissan truck
Not to give a fuck, Kurupt
86 gang bang, World War III
Thunder Dome, Crenshaw, Chemical Ali
California n***a!
[Chorus: Butch Cassidy, Truth Hurts] + (Sly Boogy)
[Verse 6: Crooked I]
The women hop in the whip
They love the way the speakers be subbin' in eight places
I represent Cali like Governor Gray Davis
On roller coaster rims, I own my own company pal
I'm slangin' spinners, how you lovin' me now
In L.A. you gotta be do or die in junior high
He's Sly, I'm Crooked I and we ride - you know?!
And I'm Death Row, heartless and lethal
You seen Menace to Society, I should start in the sequel
Yeeah
[Verse 7: Roscoe]
Blaze up the sticky dro, raise up the '64
Sittin' low at the liquor store
He's better than generous, inconsiderate
On a shwe wit a cigarette
You know that n***a Young Roscoe rollin' in the Cadillac
Rag on these (on these)
I got my Khakillac (Khakis) saggin' wit the crease
And everybody wanna know like, "what's up wit Sco?"
It's Y.A. Killafornia!
[Verse 8: 2Pac]
Know for doin' scandalous deeds, no handlin' me
And nah it ain't the drugs, it's the straight thug n***a in me
I swoop down and cause havoc
My rapid delivery is automatic, lettin' n***as have it
I been labelled as a thug n***a
Since they don't sell my shit to white folks, ship it to the drug dealers
And catch a, catch a n***a worldwide
A fucking Mob Figga, West Coast who ride!
[Chorus: Butch Cassidy, Truth Hurts] + (Sly Boogy)
[Woman + man talking]
We hope you have enjoyed your stay (stay, stay)
Think about this stuff (think about this stuff)
