"Yeah. Wanna give a shout out to all my nikkas out there in the West Coast. On the West Coast, yeah. Yeah, uhh. Yo, I got to give a shout out to Pomona Got to give it out to South Central, Watts, Compton, Long Beach. But for now, KM.G, won't you spit, spit, spit for 'em."
Verse 1:
Motherfukkers don't get mad, cause Cali's kind of fly
We be the gangsta town, the nikkas that like to stay high
The land of big diamonds, y'all
Palm trees, lowriders and movie stars, hey
Where fools be mobbin' we the real original
Where jackin' is an art, punk nikkas get their caps peeled
And the hoes ain't scared to show the body
They wear the fly shyt and freaks the set party
Give it up and the hoes wearin' baggy shyt
They're showin' the world why nikkas out here p*ssy whipped
They got nikkas goin' to pens, got nikkas stealin' ends
For friends, for foes, for shows and mo' hoes
'Cause it costs a grip to live on the West Coast
Ugh, cause we be flossin', we leave the world a comatose
It's all about the paper here, so here, my dear
Roll me up a little chronic, 'cause L.A. got the bionic "
"Cause you got to have heart, to live in Cali, y'all
You got to have the fly shyt, to live in Cali, y'all
It's gonna cost you a grip, to live in Cali, y'all
See, the hoes be legit, when you live in Cali, y'all "