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Lyrify.me

West Coast Need Me Freestyle by The Game Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2015

[Beat 1]
Look, Game come through the club with the Fetty Glock, yeah, yeah
I want my Fetty, knockin' everybody in the club, gettin' free, ready rock, yeah
Ay, you know what ready rock is?
Yeah, that's what steady rock biz
That's naked chicks cookin' in the kitchen
Naked chicks listenin' to Kendrick, yeah
They got the Dre beats pill with the character
And the Dre beats pill was sittin' in the character mouth
And that's the West Side to the South
You know what I'm about, P-I-R-U
And I do it for my troops
Not true religions 'cause we still rockin' Levi's
Everybody know I'm from West Side, Compton
Grew up rocking knee highs
Runnin' 'round the corner, yeah
Some like formula
So, I came through with the phone call with Ferrari
Somebody introduce me to Bvlgari
Went down to Beverly hills, knocked down Stephanie Mills
Then I start fuckin' with Tameka
Then she introduced me to Enrica
Then Enrica introduced me to Indigo
Then my baby mama said, "Boy, you a hoe!"
I said, "My bad, I love you doe."
Fetty Wap voice, boy gettin' guap
Knots to my sock, knots to my pants, so many knots to me I don't know how to dance
Still do the nae nae
Oh, here we come, switched the beat up on me
You think you sweet, you think gon' switch the beat up and I ain't gon' know how to rap doe

[Beat 2]
Ayo, RIP to Nate Dogg, RIP to Eazy
Everything I do in Compton is straight greasy
I ain't stop rappin' 'cause the West Coast need me
They got Kendrick and YG and that's easy!
Eric Wright doe, yeah, yeah, in my Nike's though
I told y'all I like to doe doe
Yeah, but I hit you with the fo' fo'
Run up on my car, you will die for nothing
Over my kids, boy, I ain't bluffin'
I ain't fuckin' wit' you niggas
I ain't fuckin' wit' you bitches
Wait 'til I catch up to that boy, Stitches
I ain't playin' doe
Boy think I'm fuckin' with the [?] doe
Yeah, 10 years, I ain't never got killed
Or how else would I be freestylin' still?
I'm on Power 106 doe
Yeah, I'm in the retro
Car full of beasto
Yeah, I'm in the bistro
Eatin' on Linguine and don't even know what it is
Everything for my kids
You know I don't give a fuck, everything I do is Justin Credible, Eric Deluxe
And I'm not through freestylin'
Game get up on the thing, straight wilding
In my Honda Accord-a, ridin' with sinora
Boy fuck interns, boy let the chronic burn
That's they car but I come through in the Cutlass with AR
And I might come through with Bango
He said, "Baby girl, you're so damn fine though."
Don't even mind though
I just got five bricks from my homie Mando
[Beat 3]
Frasco, best dressed though
I got a Polo on my vest doe
You know I represent the West doe
You know I'm turnt
Ask my mama, she gon' say, "That boy burnt!"
Yeah, ask my grand mama, she gon' say, "God bless his soul in his pajamas."
But my pajamas is Polo, catch me on the South Beach, or down in SoHo
I told y'all about 60 minutes ago boy still do the trickin'
I'll be all down in Beverly Hills and then when I'm hungry
I go to Roscoe's, Finga Licking
Chicken, KFC, C-P-T, N-A-T-E D-O double G, then Snoop in the Coupe
Y'all wanna fuck with me
'Cause I come through with the homie Kendrick, YG
Can't forget Nipsey, can't forget Glasses, can't forget Steam
Everybody on they asses
Nobody even want it 'cause the West Coast aftermath
That stands for acid
Jay just stopped to Compton, YG said it's Bompton
I think I'm kinda confused, no matter how you do it, dawg, everybody lose
Power 106 doe, you know I'm goin' rich road
You know how the chick go
She give me head way lolo on my 6 4