[Intro: MC Ren]
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Yeah, nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker
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(West West, yall)
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Yeah, L.A. niggas
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L.A. niggas rule the world, nigga
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Yall niggas gotta recognize, you know what I’m sayin’?
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Niggas dont wanna peep game, you know what I’m sayin’?
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But this shit come all the way back around here
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My nigga Dre, droppin heat rocks on yall bitch-ass
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You know what I’m sayin’? You gotta recognize
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L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga
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Recognize this – peep game
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[Verse 1: Time Bomb]
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Now in my younger days, I used to sport a rag
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Backpack full of cans, plus a four-four mag
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Gd up from the feet up
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Blued up from the shoe up, how I grew up
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Locn, smokin and drinkin til we threw up (‘Til we threw up)
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At Leimert Park, taggin, hittin fools up
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Ditching my class, just to fuck yo school up
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You dont wanna blast, nigga, tuck yo tool up
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But dont sleep, young niggas quick to shoot you
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Now theres another motherfucker with no future
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But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba
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Got em jumpin, Disciples to the Hoover
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[Verse 2: King T]
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Im coming “Straight Outta Compton” with a loose cannon
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Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
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Watch your manners; at last, another blast from the top notch
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From way back with the Pop Rocks, I pop lock witcha
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Picture this: Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks
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And Hittman bought a fix
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Dont trip, its a Time Bomb in this bitch
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Hear it tick, tick, tick, tick— *boom*
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Wait a minute, its on; I tell it like a true mackadelic
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Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it
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From sundown to sun up, clown and run up
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The Aftermathll be two in your gut, nigga what?
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[Hook: Knoc-Turnal & Kokane]
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We roll deep, smoke on weed, drink and pack heat
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Requirements for survival each day in L.A.!
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It dont stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
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Analyze why we act this way in L.A.!
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[Verse 3: Hittman]
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Gimme that mic, fool, its a West Coast jack move
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They call me Hitt, cause I spit like gats do
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Cock me back
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Bust caps for my Macz Crew, at Fairfax
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We used to wear Air Max shoes, thats true
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But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you
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Blast you for that set you claim (Where you from?)
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Mash on you for your Turkish chain, CK, BK
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Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang
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I helped niggas get jacked for they Dana Danes
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My pants hang below my waistline
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I look humble; wanna rumble? (Yeah, yeah)
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I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline
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Dont waste my time
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Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AKs and 9s
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One-times, sunshines and fine-ass bitches
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Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fos on switches
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[Verse 4: Xzibit]
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I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF
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Where the brothers in the hood refused to go Hollywood
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Slugs for the fuck of it
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Anybody hatin on us can suck a dick
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If I catch you touching mine, you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor
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Better than yours, driving away, gettin head from a whore
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Its AvireX-to-the-Z
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Fuckin with me might get you banned from TV, cassette, and CD
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Its all mine, the whole nine, the right time
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Multiply, we dont die, the streets dont lie
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What? So neither do I; Im bad for your health
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Like puttin a pistol up to your face and blastin yourself
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[Verse 5: Defari]
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Five in the mornin, burglars at my do
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Glock 45 in my dresser drawer
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Let em come in — BOW, he see the thunder roll
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Roll with niggas who buy fifths by the fo
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And brews by the case
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Slap you in the face with the bass Dr. Dre laced
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Likwit Kings with Sedans and gold rings
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Haters scope the style, but cant find no openings
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[Hook: Knoc-Turnal, Kokane]
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We roll deep, smoke on weed, drink and pack heat
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Requirements for survival each day in L.A.!
~#**************#~
It dont stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
~#**************#~
Analyze why we act this way in L.A.!
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[Outro]
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In L.A. –
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Thats how we ride
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Thats how we ride
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Thats how we ride
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Thats how we ride
