Westside Story lyrics

by

Marsha Ambrosius


[Intro: The Game]
Crip n*ggas, Blood n*ggas, eses, Asians
Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, white boys, Jamaicans
Latin Kings, Disciples, Vice Lords, Haitians
All these motherf*ckers been patiently waitin'

[Verse 1: The Game]
Since the West Coast fell off, the streets been watching
The West Coast never fell off—I was 'sleep in Compton
Aftermath been here, the beats been knocking
Nate Dogg doin' his thing, DPG still poppin'
I got "California Love," f*ckin' b*tches to that 'Pac sh*t
And Westside Connection been had it locked, b*tch
I'm in the rear-view, my guns is c*ckin'
I put red dots on a n*gga' head like Rodman
All Stars, fat laces; gun charge, court cases
Fought that, not guilty, I'm back, n*ggas hate me
Been there, done that, sold crack, got jacked
Got shot, came back, jumped on Dre's back
Payback, homie, I'm bringing C.A. back
And I don't do button-up shirts or drive Maybachs,
All you old record labels tryna advance
Aftermath, b*tch—take it like a muh'f*ckin' man

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game, tell 'em where you from (n*gga, Westside!)
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from (n*gga, Westside!)
[Verse 2: The Game]
I'm low-ridin', homie, six-trey Impala
Gold D's spinnin', chrome hydraulics
Run up on my lo-lo, you stop breathing
Hollow tips make n*ggas disappear like Houdini
Gangbangin' is real, homie—I'm living proof
Like Snoop Dogg C-walkin' on top of the Devil's roof
Rap critics wanna converse about this and that
'Cause red strings in his Converse, and this a Dre track
Keep gibberin' and jabbin', I pull the .38 Magnum
And get to clickin' and clackin'
Your homies wanna know what happened
Come to Compton, see Thriller like Mike Jackson
I might be Spike Lee of this gun-clappin'
Prior to rappin', I was drug traffickin'
In the dope spot, playing John Madden
Homie, I ain't braggin', I took five
You wanna die? Run up on that black 7-45

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game, tell 'em where you from (n*gga, Westside!)
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from (n*gga, Westside!)
[Verse 3: The Game]
New York, New York, big city of dreams
I got my L.A. Dodger fitted on, I'm doin' my thing
Got me f*cking with G-Unit—you know the drama that bring
I got n*ggas in Westside Compton and Southside Queens
And Buck told me in Cashville I'm good when I come through
So I ain't gotta tuck-in my chain like DJ Pooh
I'm gangsta—more like Deebo when he was Zeus
Play Bishop, I paint that picture—now, who got the juice?
You n*ggas is Nutso—I'll take off your roof
Leave your ass stretched-out like a Cadillac coupe
God gotta let me in Heaven, all the sh*t I've been through
I was a O.G. in the hood before I turned twenty-two
Homie, I let the .38 special rip through that vest
And I don't contemplate whether or not he left his sh*t on the dresser
Got Compton on my back, I'm starting to feel the pressure
I'm lyrically Kool G. Rap on these Dre records

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game, tell 'em where you from (n*gga, Westside!)
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I be a gangsta 'til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell 'em where you from (n*gga, Westside!)
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