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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Snoop Dogg
Snoop Dogg
Vocals
Ice Cube
Ice Cube
Vocals
E-40
E-40
Vocals
Too $hort
Too $hort
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Todd Shaw
Todd Shaw
Songwriter
Calvin Broadus
Calvin Broadus
Songwriter
O'Shea Jackson
O'Shea Jackson
Songwriter
Davon Phillips
Davon Phillips
Songwriter
Shawn Johnson
Shawn Johnson
Songwriter
Earl Stevens
Earl Stevens
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ice Cube
Ice Cube
Mixing Engineer
Shawn Johnson PKA Shawn Ski
Shawn Johnson PKA Shawn Ski
Producer
We Got Hits Productions
We Got Hits Productions
Producer
Zachary Perry
Zachary Perry
Engineer
Issue
Issue
Engineer
David Lopez
David Lopez
Engineer
Frank Vasquez
Frank Vasquez
Engineer
Battlecat
Battlecat
Engineer

Lyrics

When me and the homies hit the door It's like Moses partin' the Red Sea (West Coast) All the soft motherfuckers Get out the way, move to the back, break wide They know what it is (ShawnSki on the beat) Y'all know what it is OD, fuck the police Bumpin' oldies, like it's '83 Nigga goatee a little salty I'm a OG, get up off me You a softy, I ain't with that If you get in range, I might split that Snap that, like a Kit Kat Nigga, get back over with them hoodrats Yeah, punk bitch I ain't too progressive Yeah, fool, my attitude's aggressive Motherfuckers don't like the pressure Niggas rather act like some Heathers Where I got the throne? From testosterone The rooster never leave its cock at home Cock that shit back, with ammunition When me and my niggas, is on a mission Let's go When the homies get activated (yeah) All the bitches get captivated (ooh-wee) Not one thing calculated (nah) Everything is imitated (Westside) When the homies get activated (yeah know) All the bitches get captivated (ooh-wee) Not one thing calculated (yeah) Everything is imitated I don't hate, it's not in my blood All my friends are pimps who get a lot of love (get love) You give it to real, don't fuck with the fake I show you how much a real mack can make A million dollars ain't shit to spend (it ain't shit) I get some new hoes and get it again And after all these years I'm still rich I give a fuck how you feel, bitch (give a fuck how you feel) You can ask about me, anywhere They say I'm a pimp, they say I'm a player They know about you, you a bitch-ass player You a sucker, get the fuck-up outta here (up outta here) I came in this world to spread the game Got my own damn wall in the Hall of fame (in the Hall of fame) You can talk shit and you can call me names But when you see us come through, nigga we ain't playin' When the homies get activated (yeah) All the bitches get captivated (ooh-wee) Not one thing calculated (nah) Everything is imitated (Westside) When the homies get activated (yeah know) All the bitches get captivated (ooh-wee) Not one thing calculated (yeah) Everything is imitated I ain't finna give it to you cut and dry, or blunt and bladed Let me pop my P's, let me narrate it In the midst of the moment, when there's funk with opponents You probably shouldn't delay it, might wanna get activated Can't hesitate it when it's on sight, it's on demand Gotta get down when you man it, don't let 'em think you playin' These suckers'll mute you and will leave you speechless Rock you to sleep if they can, and they'll take your kindness for weakness Gotta know how to move, and you gotta know who your dudes is Some of these fools you think your dudes is really scandalous All of these saps is pussies like a cat (meow!) Line you up, double-back you for some scratch (by-yow!) The soil love me, they know I'm crispy like Pringle Appreciate me like old folk appreciate goin' to Bingo Some of these cats'll knock you down and melt, tell on thyself All that just to get one under they belt (biatch) Let's bang, let's bang Cali is active Gangbanging was attractive, so I snatched it And I threw it in my knapsack, marinated on it It's the way of life (life) I'm in the mix, all day, and night Pitbull fights with my dogs I bet A hundred real niggas that ain't even from my set (what up though, cuz!) Down to put it down, in or outta town We don't lie d-down, we just shot it out And then make it back to the park Pulled up real slow in a seven-deuce Buick Skylark (what up, cuz?) Jumped out, gave dep to my young G's Everybody's active, C's and B's In the sky, bastards of the party Nigga, we don't die, we just multiply (Ride, ride, ride) When the homies get activated (yeah) All the bitches get captivated (ooh-wee) Not one thing calculated (nah) Everything is imitated (Westside) When the homies get activated (yeah know) All the bitches get captivated (ooh-wee) Not one thing calculated (yeah) Everything is imitated West up
Writer(s): O'shea Jackson, Earl T. Stevens, George Clinton Jr., Calvin Cordazor Broadus, William Earl Collins, Todd Anthony Shaw, Bernard G Jr. Worrell Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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