Music: Keenon Dequan Ray Jackson/Alejandro Carranza/Fenix Rypinski/Tyrone William Griffin, Jr./James Royo/Norman “Monster Norm” Lewis/Kevin Duane McCord
Arranger: Ty Dolla $ign
Producer: Ty Dolla $ign
Smokin', drinkin', ****in'
And the opps, they ain't on nothin'
Got it on me when I'm in the function
Nigga starin' too hard and I'm bussin'
Got a switch on this blick, you can't duck this
And the clip too big, I can't tuck shit
This some West Coast shit, you can't **** wit'
South Central all the way to Sunset
From Bompton all the way to Sunset
I ain't bummin' if I can't get the gun in
If I'm bummin', then you know I bring the Bloods in
Blood in, blood out, b***h, we thuggin'
Throwin' up gang signs
On that **** the opps shit so much, they try to hit me with a hate crime
Chances, I'ma take mines
Good p***y gotta fly across state lines
Yeah, got your lady spoiled
Hundred bottles at the crib, no baby oil
Yeah, got your lady spoiled
Hundred bottles at the crib, no baby oil
Smokin', drinkin', ****in'
And the opps, they ain't on nothin'
Got it on me when I'm in the function
Nigga starin' too hard and I'm bussin'
Got a switch on this blick, you can't duck this
And the clip too big, I can't tuck shit
This some West Coast shit, you can't **** wit'
South Central all the way to Sunset
From Hollywood all the way to Bompton
Think about Nip when I'm on Slauson
Selling hoes on Fig like an auction
When you approach me, do it with some caution
I just turned Coachella into Hochella
And I got it on me, I'm a known felon
Catch a case, take a charge, I don't do no tellin'
Don't do no arguin', don't do no yellin'
Anytime that I perform, I got a blick on the stage
You can tell I'm cuttin' up, startin' to look like Johnny Cage
Sell good c*****e on my burst free range
B***h, I came from the trenches, shoot outs and runnin' fades
Smokin', drinkin', ****in'
And the opps, they ain't on nothin'
Got it on me when I'm in the function
Nigga starin' too hard and I'm bussin'
Got a switch on this blick, you can't duck this
And the clip too big, I can't tuck shit
This some West Coast shit, you can't **** wit'
South Central all the way to Sunset
This that West Coast shit you can't **** with
I got her suckin' on my d**k, she got the duck lips
Freaky ass b***h, wanna **** me with no condom
Wipe a n***a nose, if we spot 'em then we on him, b***h
You see the boogers on the face like I'm sick
You try to turn her to her wife, but she out here doin' d**ks
She showin' out, she doing tricks
I bend her over, then she put me on the floor and did the splits
I love the way she make it grip
I might let you give me head, baby, but don't kiss me on my lips
We got one, two, three, four blickies in the VIP
Let a n***a try to trip, we throwin' bullets in this b***h
Let a nigga trip, he gon' get a facelift
That forty Glock got him doin' the Matrix
All the pretty hoes gon' play this
Joey Bada$$ gon' hate this
Smokin', drinkin', ****in'
And the opps, they ain't on nothin'
Got it on me when I'm in the function
Nigga starin' too hard and I'm bussin'
Got a switch on this blick, you can't duck this
And the clip too big, I can't tuck shit
This some West Coast shit, you can't **** wit'
South Central all the way to Sunset