[Intro: MC Chill + Tray Deee]
Yeah
Wassup Chill
Oh I’m just chillin Tray Deee you know I’m sayin
Parlayin over here on the wild wild west
Doin it gangsta style
That’s right
These fools don’t recognize us
These fools don’t recognize the day
Check it out

[Verse 1: MC Chill]
Sittin at the tinted, puffin on a blunt
Cappin game with the homie reminiscin on funk
A nigga need a drink so we dip to the store
Hit a couple of corners and got jacked by the 5-0
Little did they know, fool we got straps
And we into peelin back po-po caps
Ease to the stash spot, hopped out the Glock
11 o'clock news, one-time’s got shot
And ain’t nobody knowin who did it, no not a trace
Layin in the cut so I don’t catch a case
But the next time I get my ass jacked by a cop
You heard another one of them fools got that ass popped
Buck-buck the police, buck-buck your whole crew
That's what you get your face, black and blue
Jackin all my folks, tryin to get me for my grip
But catch a nigga drunk I empty the whole damn clip

[Chorus]
What’s that you’re holdin on, Compton Westside
Could it be that west coast lovin, alright, Long Beach Eastside

What’s that you’re holdin on, Compton Westside
Could it be that west coast lovin, alright, Long Beach Eastside

[Verse 2: Tray Deee]
Kickin sand from the land of the Chevys and Lacs
Where you ride or you die so you carry a strap
Whether you’re black or latin, slang yay or you rappin
You’re best to act like you’re packin
When folls roll up and hold up sets to me
I check em for the disrespect they direct at me
Cause I’m a G with no sorta direction
Who choose to execute whenever court is in session
I hold a hooptie like all black
Made for generatin, if it’s hatin makin niggas fall flat
I represent the element that’s ballin' in 96
With this crimes hits, mindsets, equipments and violence
For all that I saw through this raw ass life
Fools slippin in the darkness, stackin' all that night
Total in sight to recognize the hand that’s brung
So I play my cards hard to be the scandalous one, you know

[Chorus]
What’s that you’re holdin on, Compton Westside
Could it be that west coast lovin, alright, Long Beach Eastside

What’s that you’re holdin on, Compton Westside
Could it be that west coast lovin, alright, Long Beach Eastside

[Verse 3: Boom Bam]
I throw my set high in the sky (Why?)
Cause I don’t care (Care!), bustas might stare (Stare!)
But I dare for them to step to the Boom (Boom), the Bam (Bam)
Cause like I said don’t trip, I’ll bust your damn lip
Recognize the illusion, it’s confusin, if you’re choosin
The wrong set to claim (Uh-huh), then you’re losin
For me, I drops a big C with my gang sign
Court that any fool that wants to claim my set
A been pumped in a week he’ll be loco
Young TG’s blastin out the damn [?]
It’s on, the chrome is loaded (Loaded!)
Sky lit up from coast to coast when it exploded (Boo-yah!)
That’s how we do it on the wild wild west
Any nigga tryin to come and pass the freestyle test
Of the Hurricane, Chill, Boom Bam and Mr. Tray Deee
Puttin it down for the 96 big baby

[Chorus]
What’s that you’re holdin on, Compton Westside
Could it be that west coast lovin, alright, Long Beach Eastside

What’s that you’re holdin on, Compton Westside
Could it be that west coast lovin, alright, Long Beach Eastside