west-side
Blue rag hangin’ out the left like a war flag, Chuck T’s lace tight, khakis with a toe tag. Slide through the city, ain't no love for the opps, Crenshaw to Watts, where the real ones don’t talk. Catch me posted on the ave, twistin' up some game, Old heads gave jewels, now I carry they name. Ink deep on my skin, got my set in my soul, Taught to walk like a king, but be ready to roll. I don’t dance with the fake, I just two-step with fate, Heard them sirens in my youth, now I’m dodgin' the state. Got my brother on the line, said he fresh out the box, Gotta welcome him with fades and a trunk full of knocks. Hit the function in the low-low, seat lean with a glare, Chain heavy like the pain we been taught to wear. Still Crip with precision, ain't no switchin' my lane, From the blue skies above to the coast where it bang. OG said, “Keep it G, never die for respect, Live and build for your fam, stack that paper, invest.” So I’m grindin’ off the trauma, makin’ pain into songs, Westside on my breath, I been bangin’ too long. Sunset on the set, it’s a whole different view, From the block to the booth, everything still blue. You could feel it in the bass, every word, every slide, This that Crip talk walkin’ with that Westside pride.Slide like a ghost through the backstreets of Long Beach, Blue flag wavin’ while I’m dippin’ through the palm reach. Raised in the set where the cold nights talk, Grew up hearin’ gunshots louder than the church chalk. Mama said “Pray,” but the block said “Ride,” So I kept my faith tucked and my heat by my side. Shootin’ dice in the alley, young'n dreamin’ of a Benz, Now it's Rollies and revenge, circle tighter than my lens. Ain’t no cappin’ in my verses, I done seen too much, Lost bros to the turf, turned grief into clutch. Had a convo with the mirror, told my demons “let’s dance,” Now I moonwalk through trauma, blue chucks, no stance. Tatted up my past just to carry my pain, Got a blueprint for survival, now I build in the rain. Slauson to the Bay, got love up and down, But I’m a SoCal Crip—still a king without a crown. Used to bench press stress, now I lift up hope, Seen the strongest fall fast from the ones that they broke. So I keep my mind sharp, like the lines that I spit, Every bar got a body, every rhyme got a hit. Still cruisin’ in the Cutty with a fresh coat of wax, Twin 12s in the trunk, make it jump like cracks. Westside in my veins, in my speech, in my step, Put my life in these verses—every breath I rep.
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Blue rag hangin’ out the left like a war flag, Chuck T’s lace tight, khakis with a toe tag. Slide through the city, ain't no love for the opps, Crenshaw to Watts, where the real ones don’t talk. Catch me posted on the ave, twistin' up some game, Old heads gave jewels, now I carry they name. Ink deep on my skin, got my set in my soul, Taught to walk like a king, but be ready to roll. I don’t dance with the fake, I just two-step with fate, Heard them sirens in my youth, now I’m dodgin' the state. Got my brother on the line, said he fresh out the box, Gotta welcome him with fades and a trunk full of knocks. Hit the function in the low-low, seat lean with a glare, Chain heavy like the pain we been taught to wear. Still Crip with precision, ain't no switchin' my lane, From the blue skies above to the coast where it bang. OG said, “Keep it G, never die for respect, Live and build for your fam, stack that paper, invest.” So I’m grindin’ off the trauma, makin’ pain into songs, Westside on my breath, I been bangin’ too long. Sunset on the set, it’s a whole different view, From the block to the booth, everything still blue. You could feel it in the bass, every word, every slide, This that Crip talk walkin’ with that Westside pride.Slide like a ghost through the backstreets of Long Beach, Blue flag wavin’ while I’m dippin’ through the palm reach. Raised in the set where the cold nights talk, Grew up hearin’ gunshots louder than the church chalk. Mama said “Pray,” but the block said “Ride,” So I kept my faith tucked and my heat by my side. Shootin’ dice in the alley, young'n dreamin’ of a Benz, Now it's Rollies and revenge, circle tighter than my lens. Ain’t no cappin’ in my verses, I done seen too much, Lost bros to the turf, turned grief into clutch. Had a convo with the mirror, told my demons “let’s dance,” Now I moonwalk through trauma, blue chucks, no stance. Tatted up my past just to carry my pain, Got a blueprint for survival, now I build in the rain. Slauson to the Bay, got love up and down, But I’m a SoCal Crip—still a king without a crown. Used to bench press stress, now I lift up hope, Seen the strongest fall fast from the ones that they broke. So I keep my mind sharp, like the lines that I spit, Every bar got a body, every rhyme got a hit. Still cruisin’ in the Cutty with a fresh coat of wax, Twin 12s in the trunk, make it jump like cracks. Westside in my veins, in my speech, in my step, Put my life in these verses—every breath I rep.