(feat. The Game)
[Chorus: Eastwood]
California, California,
California Dreams, we ballin on the Westside,
Muthaf-ckers know how we ride,
California swag throw ya rags out
It stunt like this [? ] we die
California Dreams on the Westside,
Muthf-ckers know how we ride,
California swag throw ya rags out
Throw ya rags out,..
[Verse 1:]
If it ain't got a black rag tied to it, I'm too gutter for it,
SooWoo crip be the one sh-t I'm all for it,
I got love for the streets, they love a n-gga back,
Posted in the hood at the weed spot gettin tatts,
Hoopty's on they Chris Brown sh-t,
Like East gimme that,
I don't need no ice in my cup they make the Remy flat,
Haha, you ballers trickin on the wrong sh-t,
The same broads you tryna wife up she be on my d-ck,
Time is money so I got me a watch,
I call it tricks cause it got different colour stones through the rocks,
So look the Mr underrated slash everybody's favourite
Suckers MC's hate it, I spit it like the greatest,
This California with fly women and bomb smoke
Land of the palm trees, gang banging and liquor stores,
You frontin on this new West sh-t let it go,
We jus tryna ride and give the streets what they rep for,
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: The Game]
If it ain't got a red rag tied to it, I ain't f-ckin with it,
SooWoo to the death I just grab my dutch and lit it,
If I talk it I live it, the flow so exquisite,
It's like Machievelli paid the young Homie a visit,
Who is it trumped up on them thirties, black Escalades truck,
And I'm still riding dirrty ayyy,
That's the sound of a mad man,
Old English bottle brown paper bag, damnnn,
N-gga it's 09, I'm gon grind,
Holla at my PO I'm blowing haze and he don't mind,
Got Cali on lock n-gga,
You better go dig up Pac n-gga,
The whole World know I took 5 shots
And got walked into county jail by 25 cops yeah,
Better close your mouth before I close your eyes,
It's California n-gga I'm supposed to ride,
[Chorus]
Eastwood - California Lyrics
Eastwood - California Lyrics
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(feat. The Game)
[Chorus: Eastwood]
California, California,
California Dreams, we ballin on the Westside,
Muthaf-ckers know how we ride,
California swag throw ya rags out
It stunt like this [? ] we die
California Dreams on the Westside,
Muthf-ckers know how we ride,
California swag throw ya rags out
Throw ya rags out,..
[Verse 1:]
If it ain't got a black rag tied to it, I'm too gutter for it,
SooWoo crip be the one sh-t I'm all for it,
I got love for the streets, they love a n-gga back,
Posted in the hood at the weed spot gettin tatts,
Hoopty's on they Chris Brown sh-t,
Like East gimme that,
I don't need no ice in my cup they make the Remy flat,
Haha, you ballers trickin on the wrong sh-t,
The same broads you tryna wife up she be on my d-ck,
Time is money so I got me a watch,
I call it tricks cause it got different colour stones through the rocks,
So look the Mr underrated slash everybody's favourite
Suckers MC's hate it, I spit it like the greatest,
This California with fly women and bomb smoke
Land of the palm trees, gang banging and liquor stores,
You frontin on this new West sh-t let it go,
We jus tryna ride and give the streets what they rep for,
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: The Game]
If it ain't got a red rag tied to it, I ain't f-ckin with it,
SooWoo to the death I just grab my dutch and lit it,
If I talk it I live it, the flow so exquisite,
It's like Machievelli paid the young Homie a visit,
Who is it trumped up on them thirties, black Escalades truck,
And I'm still riding dirrty ayyy,
That's the sound of a mad man,
Old English bottle brown paper bag, damnnn,
N-gga it's 09, I'm gon grind,
Holla at my PO I'm blowing haze and he don't mind,
Got Cali on lock n-gga,
You better go dig up Pac n-gga,
The whole World know I took 5 shots
And got walked into county jail by 25 cops yeah,
Better close your mouth before I close your eyes,
It's California n-gga I'm supposed to ride,
[Chorus]
[Chorus: Eastwood]
California, California,
California Dreams, we ballin on the Westside,
Muthaf-ckers know how we ride,
California swag throw ya rags out
It stunt like this [? ] we die
California Dreams on the Westside,
Muthf-ckers know how we ride,
California swag throw ya rags out
Throw ya rags out,..
[Verse 1:]
If it ain't got a black rag tied to it, I'm too gutter for it,
SooWoo crip be the one sh-t I'm all for it,
I got love for the streets, they love a n-gga back,
Posted in the hood at the weed spot gettin tatts,
Hoopty's on they Chris Brown sh-t,
Like East gimme that,
I don't need no ice in my cup they make the Remy flat,
Haha, you ballers trickin on the wrong sh-t,
The same broads you tryna wife up she be on my d-ck,
Time is money so I got me a watch,
I call it tricks cause it got different colour stones through the rocks,
So look the Mr underrated slash everybody's favourite
Suckers MC's hate it, I spit it like the greatest,
This California with fly women and bomb smoke
Land of the palm trees, gang banging and liquor stores,
You frontin on this new West sh-t let it go,
We jus tryna ride and give the streets what they rep for,
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: The Game]
If it ain't got a red rag tied to it, I ain't f-ckin with it,
SooWoo to the death I just grab my dutch and lit it,
If I talk it I live it, the flow so exquisite,
It's like Machievelli paid the young Homie a visit,
Who is it trumped up on them thirties, black Escalades truck,
And I'm still riding dirrty ayyy,
That's the sound of a mad man,
Old English bottle brown paper bag, damnnn,
N-gga it's 09, I'm gon grind,
Holla at my PO I'm blowing haze and he don't mind,
Got Cali on lock n-gga,
You better go dig up Pac n-gga,
The whole World know I took 5 shots
And got walked into county jail by 25 cops yeah,
Better close your mouth before I close your eyes,
It's California n-gga I'm supposed to ride,
[Chorus]