[Verse 1: Young Maylay]
Don't know nothin' 'bout it, 'bout how the West Coast does it
Blowing on the big dro and your hoes love it
Know the real when she see it, 'cause we the authentic
Ya'll wine, dine, and spend time, then I'm all in it (Yeah)
Ridin', rollin', bo-bouncing, West Coasting (Yes)
Might be stolen, alright, but, let's go then (Woo)
Get to dippin' and smashin', something that's lavish
In t-shirt and khak's with the Dodger hat backwards
Don't stop, won't quit, keep it going, gotta show ya (Bang)
It's the super-California-listicexpialidocious (Oh)
7-6 soles, go Pro Bowl rollin'
Smellin' big smoke when the four doors open
That's the type of shit that bitches like when you live a different life
Quit trippin', get it right, let a n***a hit tonight (Yeah)
They ain't official like us, quickest to bust (Nah)
2000-[?], still in the [?], what?

[Chorus: Young Maylay & KayLo, KayLo]
They ain't official like us (Smash)
They ain't official like us (Swerve)
They ain't official like us (Move)
They ain't official like us

[Verse 2: KayLo]
Now, you riders recognize a G with much respect
Come at me wrong, I'm takin' off, that might've cost you your neck
It ain't no games being played when you bang in a gang
My nuts hang like *bong* 'cause it's an everyday thing
Cash, G buckle, t-shirt, flag 'round my braids
Black Chucks, white strings, lettin' the Tom Hanks
My boy official, as I'm salutin' my G's
Polluted with these thoughts to proceed on the pursuit for the cheese
Choose to be affiliated with killers and strictly riders
We ride with artillery, we feed clips like bananas
We stay alert, ready to strike like piranhas
Overflow funeral homes, leave your peace and motion over at [?]
I promise to keep the code 'til I die
Raise my right hand and form a "G" in the sky
Salutin' my troops in each and every correction facility
And stay strapped with the automatic remedy for the enemy