King T - West Coast Love lyrics

[Verse 1: MC Eiht] I'm here to regulate, like I was a million Young guns son the rap game, silly soul Roll up the Philly slow, snatch the nine millie And hit the Wild West, shootin' up like Billie This ain't a kids' game, but it's like jump rope Up in the ear like I'm blowing on weed smoke Hand over the mouth And poke ‘em in the side with the gat I'm from Compton, n***a, so let's rock I'm like the man [?], setting up the scheme But I ain't in to your money, I'll be into your dreams Back up in the ride, thirteens on the four Keep the gat on the floor just in case I gotta show Couple a n***as frown, I laugh my a** off Tight-a** jeans, n***as you so soft You get tossed right out your shoes Compton's back here, we give ‘em the bad news [Hook: King Tee] You know they can't hang with them lyrical slugs When Marco Polo got the beat on subs Original gang bang n***as from the hub MC Eiht and King Tee showing West Coast love [Verse 2: MC Eiht] It's no disguise, with the blue bandanna Thug that spit it in the neighborhood grammar Music to drive by, locus, no digging The West on your coattails, you stay hidden Unforgiven, Eiht got the murder rap Tales in the Hood and rats, a few [?] cats I won't trade it for the fame and fortune Compton keep it hot, block always scorchin' Hood n***as on the porch still like everyday thang Tre on Ds believe in Deuce Wayne This is a game, no doubt, see the tag Couple n***as crossed-out, so no need to brag sh** you f**ing with the best Eiht high, thin n***a, I am the West So n***as give it a rest We take it back to the hood, we're ready to protest [Hook] [Verse 3: King Tee] All bullsh** aside, there ain't no competition You f**ing with that Hub City, East Coast edition And Marc you had it cooking when we stepped in the kitchen That King Tee seasoning, spice up the vision You see it when your eyeballs glisten The mission, keep ‘em on the dance floor fizzin' (get up) Make these little n***as stop wishing On the fall of an O.G. and hopes of division The West arise like a crimson Tide from the ocean all in slow motion f** the criticism and them half-a**ed notions I pledge with the L, true liquids of motion And that's all a n***a saying f** what the radio playing, that's gay and I run through that new West thing and start banging man King Tee tripping, well let's go dipping man [Hook]