[Intro:]      G'yeah, how we gon' get on this one? (Westside)   Uh, my homey Bird in the house (N-O-T-R in the house)   I said da foes in the house (There's pork in the house)   MC Eiht in the house, g'yeah   And this how we gettin down (The new style in the house)   To the West, my Gz, to the West   To your chest, my Gz, to your chest      We puttin it down   from block to block, to scale this town   From crooked cops to, dope spots, all around   Uhh, hot poles to six folds of strawberries   Hood's tight like Fort Knox, runnin thru military   Attitudes, don't even try it, Tek 9's   AK's, will be stored in a riot   Quiet as kept, we creep, put you to sleep   No bull-essin, dirty ass Mac 11's keep spittin   Killers they cheat *?that they ass?*   Punk one-times gaffle to my homey Tiny T's battle ground   187's, 211's is for the paper   No ..... kiddin, caps get peeled in the city   E's bringin you the bomba   Ragtops we sell, oh, from Compton to Alandra   Cruisin in my 6-tre wit Eazy-E   Blunt smokin, tryin ta dash from the C-P-D   Do or die for the wicked Westside, who's the best?   Fake the West as I pound it on my chest   Compton is where we do it all day   G'yeah, bitch, oh why you come my way?   "Get Revenge" is the motto   Crack sacks to, pull jacksta, down St.Ives bottles   Representin      G'yeah come on, uhh   To the West, my Gz, to the West   (Uhh, g'yeah, puttin it down for 9-6)      Homies, we're county bound, wit the hot 9's   One-time slam my face to the ground   Hot girls can you set you up   Hollow points, hit the car when, them Compton Gz bust   (Who) can't stand my definition?   Murders I wrote, gats I tote, is my daily day mission   Kids get caught up in the rapture    Wit the murderous styles that they after   Young guns, dumpin to keep it pumpin, gots ta leave sockin   Keep dem 9 mill's rockin   No place is this place I dwell, cross every states   House Compton cell mates   Tossed souls get torn   1-5-9, I represents us the day I was born   Musta been my destiny   Blast to the face so they won't get the best of me   To make a big fat grip (grip)   Land of the, sunshine, Tek 9, we steady dip   Come test me, don't wanna do it, I keeps it jumpin   .44 Mag will definitely keep you stumpin   We back again   Them killers from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N   I'm representin      G'yeah, (Where we goin?)   To the West, my Gz, to the West (To where?)   Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your chest (So waddup?)   To the West, my Gz, uhh   Compton all day, Compton all day   G'yeah (come on, uhh, come on, uhh)      Our motto's "Do or Die", we specialise in   hittin switches and dumpin fools in ditches   If it's on, it's on, regulatin   Player hatin, run your organisation like a poem   Put that down like James Brown, I got'cha   Hey fool, I shot ya   Domes get delivered on platters   Hot heat from under the seat, fools you better stagger   My Uzi weighs a tonne   Stomp and claimin Compton from, g'yeah, day one   Sometimes I got to thank God   for puttin me in the middle of the land, where homies buck and sqwuab   For life, Compton for life and not for this rap   Stay true to the streets, so Gz get it straight   It just got to be that way   For my Gz that's, why everyday   sneaks around, to put the buck down   Compton 24/7, g'yeah, stay the hell down   We clown on the daily   Others try and fade the West but they must be crazy   I'm representin      G'yeah (Hey, come on)   To the West, my Gz, to the West   Uhh, to your chest, my Gz, to your chest   And we ain't sayin no names, uhh   Compton, uhh, g'yeah   Buck em down, buck em down   Buck em, brrrgh, uhh