[Intro: G.A.M.E. (Jim Jones)] (R.I.P Eazy-E)That Westside(Capo), that city where them tec's fly(Dip-set!) We ride in that Westside(Eastside), that no seeds in our stress side(Lets ride)
[Verse 1: G.A.M.E.] Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed Tight grip on the Escalade pole Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44 Gun smokin' like Suge cigar Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car If that thing come out, its murder she wrote If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat Nigga, we do this everyday Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay Knock a nigga out on the ave today Bring the mack ya way me and Santana Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out
[Chorus: Bezel] Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest Cause, we Certified Gangstas Stash the mill' in the house And I kill in the drowt That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth Cause, we Certified Gangstas
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Copy to Clipboard: [Intro: G.A.M.E. (Jim Jones)] (R.I.P Eazy-E)That Westside(Capo), that city where them tec's fly(Dip-set!) We ride in that Westside(Eastside), that no seeds in our stress side(Lets ride)
[Verse 1: G.A.M.E.] Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed Tight grip on the Escalade pole Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44 Gun smokin' like Suge cigar Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car If that thing come out, its murder she wrote If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat Nigga, we do this everyday Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay Knock a nigga out on the ave today Bring the mack ya way me and Santana Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out
[Chorus: Bezel] Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest Cause, we Certified Gangstas Stash the mill' in the house And I kill in the drowt That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth Cause, we Certified Gangstas
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