[Verse 1: Jay Rock] Mothafucka this is Watts, California, Nickerson Gardens Follow me home back to my project apartment Land of the palm trees, buying weed, we smoking, home of the low-lows 6-4's, we rollin, Chuck Taylor's and Nikes, wife beaters and white tees Up in the Bay area, boys gettin hyphy Los Angeles where them boys rocking them colors hard Running from one time, we ain't living behind them bars Take you on Crenshaw, then show you how to ride a car Hit a couple of switches, you won't have to buy a bra Take you on Slauson, I'm flossin, lookin like a star Witta bad bitch with ass and cash in her bra Pocket full of cash, we smash, we all at the mall Hit a swapmeet, snatch some khakis up off the wall Turn your music up cus we don't give a fuck about the law Only Lord knows, this is California soul
[Hook: Game] C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-A, my name rang in MIA, I'm the talk of New York Down in ATL, they smell me, so ain't shit niggas could tell me Ask in Mo-town, they'll tell you how it go down, ain't no California love We California thugs, we throw California slugs, so throw up a California dub
[Verse 2: Jay Rock] Mothafucka this is Watts, California, Nickerson Gardens Follow me home back to my project apartment Gotta get money homey, we hustle regardless Changin my number nigga the streets steady callin, but Moneys my target, nobodys flawless Step in my building still got the work under my carpet Still living heartless, rats, roaches crawlin Killa Killa Cali, plenty souls deparment South Central active, gang bang capitol Bloods and Crips runnin the city dawg, it's factual What set you claim? Little homey they askin you Wrong color, wrong sign, boy they blastin you And when you passin though better have a pass with u Because these boys in the hood they'll casket you Nothin but the truth is what I'm givin you Lord knows, the life of a California soul
[Hook: Game]
[Verse 3: Jay Rock] Mothafucka this is Watts, California, Nickerson Gardens Follow me home back to my project apartment Still in my hood on my beach cruiser, pedaling Niggas think I'm a rookie but got the heart of a veteran Nigga I'm a doctor, you hear I got that medicine For them patients they say the go around me but that's irrelavent Balls hangin low just like a elephant, still ridin high like a pelican Nigga I ain't studder man, I do it for the gutta men I do it for my people on a hustle on a struggle, we go? dawg I do it for the W, west coast my coast, Watts, California My hood my burough, plus I gotta keep it thorough man I gotta keep it gangsta That's what I am no wanksta, never that Momma never raised a chump, watch what you sayin huh Only Lord knows, California soul