| (Westside, in the house, for the ninteen ninety sick
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| Yeah, Mc Eiht in the house, Infinite Mass in the house
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| And this is how we represent… check it out!)
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| (MC Eiht)
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| We represent from six thousand miles away
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| We get our slang on, bang on, hang to the A. K
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| You don’t wanna play, say what you say
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| What the, Westside puts it down all day
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| Handle mine with the nine-mill
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| Clocking bills on the westside of the hill
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| Ain’t nothing change but the scrilla'
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| You don’t work, you don’t eat
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| So Im nothing but the killa
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| Keep on sweating this Compton thang
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| Eiht Da Mack come strap, and high jack
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| And damn plane, flowing like hawking birds
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| You gets dub by this criminal nigga on the run
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| We bangs like Crips and Bloods
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| Straight thugs, from Comptown to Stocktown
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| Killing and drugs
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| It don’t matter where you at gee
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| From under the fifty night to Rinkeby
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| We holds it down, E and the Infinite
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| Bought it, twenty million crowns
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| One two one two, check it out!
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| We represent from Comptown to Stocktown
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| From block to block, Glocks to Glocks
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| All around
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| You fucks around and you gets no pass
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| It’s the MC Eiht baby down with Infinite Mass
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| (Cham)
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| For the one’s who’s down with the Eiht hype sound
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| From block to block, to da last busstop in your town
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| I don’t mean to rag, but we’ve gots that shit
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| Make weak rappers stand still, while we be spitting
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| Out hits
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| Foes get killed, everyday. |
| And peace say may West
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| Cause Infinite Mass and MC eiht is like two to the chest
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| That’s wheel, that’s how I feel, I gots to be hard
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| Cause the world is hard, Im glad Im live, that’s why I
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| Thank god
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| Standing here, in the middle of nowhere
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| My mind is tripping on me cause, butter’s gone there
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| What should I do? |
| Im stronger than I thought
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| Got my peeps together, and say, let’s do it from the heart
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| Years went by, my click got tight
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| Pimps and hustlers on the late night hype
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| On the next level, that no one can fear
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| Cham represent from my block, to your town
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| We represent from Comptown to Stocktown
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| From block to block, Glocks to Glocks
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| All around
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| You fucks around and you gets no pass
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| It’s the MC Eiht baby down with Infinite Mass
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| (Rigo-Rod)
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| Foes be sayin' gees be weak, while my block not
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| Just squeete my homie Shelf. |
| With the sock round his Glock
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| And that’s how we live in the R-I-N-K-E-B-Y
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| The place I call home, in the Stocktown zone
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| And this is for all the slanging foes
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| From them one’s locked down, to them still hanging in the hood
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| And nothing new, cause we been here for years
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| With the Mass and the Compton Psycho droping shit in your ears
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| And every track we makes be banging, for the ninety sick
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| It’s from Stocktown and Compton thanging
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| And alot of groups out there, the lack, with the Mass
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| Rollin' with record-reppers, checking for fast
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| Chorous (*2)
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| We represent from Comptown to Stocktown
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| From block to block, Glocks to Glocks
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| All around
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| You fuck around and you gets no pass
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| It’s the MC Eiht baby down with Infinite Mass
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| …Sweden is the bomb, Stockholm is the bomb
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| From Comptown to Stocktown, yoimsayin', it’s ALL GOOD… |