| I’m here to regulate, like I was a million
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| Young guns son the rap game, silly soul
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| Roll up the Philly slow, snatch the nine millie
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| And hit the Wild West, shootin' up like Billie
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| This ain’t a kids' game, but it’s like jump rope
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| Up in the ear like I’m blowing on weed smoke
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| Hand over the mouth
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| And poke ‘em in the side with the gat
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| I’m from Compton, nigga, so let’s rock
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| I’m like the man, setting up the scheme
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| But I ain’t in to your money, I’ll be into your dreams
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| Back up in the ride, thirteens on the four
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| Keep the gat on the floor just in case I gotta show
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| Couple a niggas frown, I laugh my ass off
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| Tight-ass jeans, niggas you so soft
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| You get tossed right out your shoes
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| Compton’s back here, we give ‘em the bad news
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| You know they can’t hang with them lyrical slugs
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| When Marco Polo got the beat on subs
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| Original gang bang niggas from the hub
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| MC Eiht and King Tee showing West Coast love
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| It’s no disguise, with the blue bandanna
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| Thug that spit it in the neighborhood grammar
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| Music to drive by, locus, no digging
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| The West on your coattails, you stay hidden
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| Unforgiven, Eiht got the murder rap
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| Tales in the Hood and rats, a few cats
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| I won’t trade it for the fame and fortune
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| Compton keep it hot, block always scorchin'
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| Hood niggas on the porch still like everyday thang
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| Tre on Ds believe in Deuce Wayne
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| This is a game, no doubt, see the tag
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| Couple niggas crossed-out, so no need to brag
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| Shit you fucking with the best
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| Eiht high, thin nigga, I am the West
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| So niggas give it a rest
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| We take it back to the hood, we’re ready to protest
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| All bullshit aside, there ain’t no competition
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| You fucking with that Hub City, East Coast edition
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| And Marc you had it cooking when we stepped in the kitchen
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| That King Tee seasoning, spice up the vision
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| You see it when your eyeballs glisten
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| The mission, keep ‘em on the dance floor fizzin' (get up)
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| Make these little niggas stop wishing
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| On the fall of an O.G. |
| and hopes of division
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| The West arise like a crimson
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| Tide from the ocean all in slow motion
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| Fuck the criticism and them half-assed notions
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| I pledge with the L, true liquids of motion
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| And that’s all a nigga saying
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| Fuck what the radio playing, that’s gay and
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| I run through that new West thing and start banging man
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| King Tee tripping, well let’s go dipping man |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song West Coast Love , by - Marco Polo. Song from the album PA2: The Director's Cut, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп