Poke your elbows out and swing like this Poke your elbows out and swing like this (hold up)
Verse 1 Rock got it, Rock came from rock bottom, now I'm on top Pocket full of guacamole and that nola The windows on the continental tinted cocaine colored, it's a dope ride Them dope boys outside Gangbangers, crack heads and hood rats Drug paraphenelia inside that back pack If you want it we got it, that's where them goods at Nickelson Gardens, project parties Chronic, Hennessey, dro, Bacardi Guns, enemies that come through, spark them Throw em in a dumpster; you loved one, you lost him I don't dance I just boogie a lot No dress code I just wear a hoodie a lot White tee under that back against the wall West coast rocking on the beat, now I'm telling y'all
(Chorus) Poke your elbows out and swing like this Poke your elbows out and swing like this (homie) Poke your elbows out and swing like this Poke your elbows out and swing like this
Whatever you want to call it For the weed heads or for the alcoholics Now this can be some OG low-rider music Or you could twist your fingers up and gangbang to it, gangbang to it
Verse 2 Look, I know some bad ass bitches that go hard on it Addicted to that sex, they be traveling in packs They be off that X, and they'll let you fuck fast if you got some cess I ain't gon lie about it I ain't bullshitting, come to my block boy Welcome to Hell's kitchen, we bring that heat to you Too much of a real nigga not to see through you Wet him like faucet, bullet sink through you They speed through you, they eat through you Two lullaby burners, let em sing to you The harmony of it is pleasure to your ears You got to love it (nah) you got to hate it I got to be my hometown favourite Watts representer, say hello your mayor Everybody put them Ws in the air May I show you the plan I lay out My disc will never play out, I tell y'all to
(Chorus)
Verse 3 Swing your elbows and Taylors, the shell-toes Kush blunts all in the air, I smell those Cop the swap meets to freaks on Melrose This is California, killers on them corners From Long Beach to Inglewood, Hollywood Back down, them gangsters will be on you Block hot as a sauna We in the club, zoning, Patroning My knuckleheads roaming, they on and we on it It's jerkin, poppin, brackin, whatever you want to call it What's happening, we smashing, crashing your hood My nigga what's good? Staying sucker-free, just as well as you should I pull up in that motherfucking big-ass truck What the fuck? I'm on Where your bitch? She's gone with a real nigga I hop out that ho asking how you feel nigga I press blood; throw your sets up!