I'm from westside Balifornia
My nigga suin'
Paparazzi pull them cannons on ya
It be like fo' five in the mornin'
Yo' bitch gettin' fucked and shit getttin' stolen
We wear Chuck tees and Cortez
Wear designers just to flaunt them
We really don't care
And everybody know somebody with that
Cali niggas be OT
Why you think we go there?
Everybody got they hustle
Everybody got they uncle
Who got straps and got they back
When homies don't come through
Press the plug taxin', you like Uncle Sam
And ya other plug got a deal but he just got jammed
I told my pops the streets turned me to a man
He told me stay out the streets
The streets where I got my bands
Damn, and on my street I'm the man
Anotha victim of the culture, damn, damn, damn
Guns spits they M's cause they ain't how it go
Half go to Texas and expenses ain't low
And after I pay expenses I gotta pay permission
Butchu don't wanna learn the bin'ess
Cause you don't ever listen
So, you gotta learn the hard way
Don't question my loyalty
You know it, I'll go hard for you all day
Like what, who trippin'? get the biscuit, line it up
Tell 'em we can squabble in a hallway
Nigga fuck this message
He ain't my credit, can't give you my debit
That's why you hate me, huh
You counting pockets and you think I'm flickin', huh, you think
If you need me I'mma shake you, huh
Have you ever thought about how much I've been taken from
Like I need this to do that and it never happens nuh
You start speakin' that language and they don't feel niggas
That's they reason to say I ain't a real nigga
I'm gone