California ain't a state, it's an arm One motherfucker and the project's killin' The same motherfucker that'll burn down the village With a chronic blunt full of that, you know who gon' Take you back to Compton in that 6-4-2, though Subwoofers in the trunk, kickin' that lethal injection A hood nigga lost with no direction So he bought a blacksmith in Wesson Trapped on his vest and that's his protection At the intersection, waitin' on arrival Cause in the city of angels, it's all about survival *** the 5-0, they wanna see you DOA Welcome to LA Where the ghetto birds flyin' over my auntie's And my cousin house, tell me what they buzzin' bout The little homie got smoked on the corner And now his mama cryin' dead in California Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn Till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light Shinin' through the fuckin' palm trees California ain't a state, it's an arm Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn Till the chronic blunt don't burn And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light Shinin' through the fuckin' palm trees California ain't a state, it's an army Jumped in my Impala, took a trip to the swap meet To scoop up ego trippin' And the white tee cause some niggas in my old hood don't like me Time to put the ass in check, like my Nikes Shoulda hit my nigga Mac-10 on the church All I need is me and my bitch, you scared? Go to church Cause them California niggas crack heads for the turf And life ain't nothin' but Tec-9s and dirt Dippin' through the jungles, my Escalade hit a dip ***, here come the gorillas in the midst And they dressed like Ice Cube was in 96 Stone Cold Jerry Girls and not one drip I sleep with the worms before I swim with the fish And I ride with my niggas before I roll with a bitch If it don't make dollars, it don't make cents And I almost got shot cause I couldn't hit a fence Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn Till the chronic blood don't burn And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light Shinin' through the fuckin' palm trees California ain't a state, it's an army Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn Till the chronic blood don't burn And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light Shinin' through the fuckin' palm trees California ain't a state, it's an army Call the U.S. government and tell them it's a motherfuckin' cold red Niggas tried to straight up jack me, now they both dead Third little nigga got away on his moped Caught him round the corner, put the beam on his forehead Jumped in the Impala, then smashed through the light Without a one time in sight, so I bust a right On Sentry, headed to the LAX We ain't nothin' but fly bitches and jets In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked Off-brand nigga in a 600 Throwin' up a set, he must don't know I got the 40 on deck, in a tech Tryna be chivalry, it's time to flex It's the third time this *** happened to me all day Guess it's time to add another dead body to the doorway So I turned down my Spice 1 tape and hit the switch Emptied the whole clip in his fuckin' face Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn Till the chronic blood don't burn And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light Shinin' through the fuckin' palm trees California ain't a state, it's an army Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn Till the chronic blood don't burn And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light Shinin' through the fuckin' palm trees California ain't a state, it's an army California ain't a state, it's an army