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