[Intro:] G'yeah, how we gon' get on this one? (Westside) Uh, my homey Bird in the house (N-O-T-R in the house) I said da foes in the house (There's pork in the house) MC Eiht in the house, g'yeah And this how we gettin down (The new style in the house) To the West, my Gz, to the West To your chest, my Gz, to your chest We puttin it down from block to block, to scale this town From crooked cops to, dope spots, all around Uhh, hot poles to six folds of strawberries Hood's tight like Fort Knox, runnin thru military Attitudes, don't even try it, Tek 9's AK's, will be stored in a riot Quiet as kept, we creep, put you to sleep No bull-essin, dirty ass Mac 11's keep spittin Killers they cheat *?that they ass?* Punk one-times gaffle to my homey Tiny T's battle ground 187's, 211's is for the paper No ..... kiddin, caps get peeled in the city E's bringin you the bomba Ragtops we sell, oh, from Compton to Alandra Cruisin in my 6-tre wit Eazy-E Blunt smokin, tryin ta dash from the C-P-D Do or die for the wicked Westside, who's the best? Fake the West as I pound it on my chest Compton is where we do it all day G'yeah, bitch, oh why you come my way? "Get Revenge" is the motto Crack sacks to, pull jacksta, down St.Ives bottles Representin G'yeah come on, uhh To the West, my Gz, to the West (Uhh, g'yeah, puttin it down for 9-6) Homies, we're county bound, wit the hot 9's One-time slam my face to the ground Hot girls can you set you up Hollow points, hit the car when, them Compton Gz bust (Who) can't stand my definition? Murders I wrote, gats I tote, is my daily day mission Kids get caught up in the rapture Wit the murderous styles that they after Young guns, dumpin to keep it pumpin, gots ta leave sockin Keep dem 9 mill's rockin No place is this place I dwell, cross every states House Compton cell mates Tossed souls get torn 1-5-9, I represents us the day I was born Musta been my destiny Blast to the face so they won't get the best of me To make a big fat grip (grip) Land of the, sunshine, Tek 9, we steady dip Come test me, don't wanna do it, I keeps it jumpin .44 Mag will definitely keep you stumpin We back again Them killers from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N I'm representin G'yeah, (Where we goin?) To the West, my Gz, to the West (To where?) Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your chest (So waddup?) To the West, my Gz, uhh Compton all day, Compton all day G'yeah (come on, uhh, come on, uhh) Our motto's "Do or Die", we specialise in hittin switches and dumpin fools in ditches If it's on, it's on, regulatin Player hatin, run your organisation like a poem Put that down like James Brown, I got'cha Hey fool, I shot ya Domes get delivered on platters Hot heat from under the seat, fools you better stagger My Uzi weighs a tonne Stomp and claimin Compton from, g'yeah, day one Sometimes I got to thank God for puttin me in the middle of the land, where homies buck and sqwuab For life, Compton for life and not for this rap Stay true to the streets, so Gz get it straight It just got to be that way For my Gz that's, why everyday sneaks around, to put the buck down Compton 24/7, g'yeah, stay the hell down We clown on the daily Others try and fade the West but they must be crazy I'm representin G'yeah (Hey, come on) To the West, my Gz, to the West Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your chest And we ain't sayin no names, uhh Compton, uhh, g'yeah Buck em down, buck em down Buck em, brrrgh, uhh Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com