Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Westside Story’ by 50 Cent. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 50 Cent or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Crip niggas, Blood niggas, ese’s, Asians
Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, white boys, Jamaicans
Latin Kings, Disciples, Vice Lords, Haitians
All these motherfuckers been patiently waitin’
Since the West coast fell off, the streets been watchin’
The West coast never fell off, I was asleep in Compton
Aftermath been here, the beats been knockin’
Nate Dogg doin’ his thing, DPG still poppin’
I got California Love, fuckin’ bitches to that ‘Pac shit
And Westside Connection, been had it locked bitch
I’m in the rearview, my guns is cockin’
I put red dots on that nigga head like Rodman
All Stars, fat laces, gun charge, court cases
Fought that, not guilty, I’m back, niggas hate me
Been there, done that, sold crack, got jacked
Got shot, came back, jumped on Dre’s back
Payback, homey I’m bringin’ C.A. back
And I don’t do button up shirts or drive Maybachs
All you old record labels tryin’ to advance
Aftermath bitch, take it like a muh’fuckin’ man
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I’ll be a gangsta ’til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell ’em where you from, nigga Westside
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I’ll be a gangsta ’til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell ’em where you from, nigga Westside
I’m lowridin’ homey, six trey Impala
Gold D’s spinnin’, chrome hydraulics
Run up on my lo-lo, you stop breathin’
Hollow tips make niggas disappear like Houdini
Gang bangin’ is real, homey I’m living proof
Like Snoop Dogg, C-walkin’ on top of the devil’s roof
Rap critics wanna converse, about this and that
Cause red strings in his Converse, and this a Dre track
Keep jibbin’ and jabbin’, I pull the .38 Magnum
And get to clickin’ and clackin’, your homies wanna know what happened
Come to Compton see Thriller like Mike Jackson
I might be, Spike Lee, of this gun clappin’
Prior to rappin’, I was drug traffickin’
In the dope spot playin’ John Madden
Homey I ain’t braggin’, I took five
You wanna die, run up on that black 745
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I’ll be a gangsta ’til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell ’em where you from, nigga Westside
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I’ll be a gangsta ’til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell ’em where you from, nigga Westside
New York, New York, big city of dreams
I got my L.A. Dodger fitted on, I’m doin’ my thing
Got me fuckin’ with G-Unit, you know the drama that bring
I got niggas in Westside Compton and Southside Queens
And Buck told me in Cashville, I’m good when I come through
So I ain’t gotta tuck in my chain like DJ Pooh
I’m gangsta – more like Deebo when he was Zeus
Play Bishop, I paint that picture, now who got the Juice?
You niggas is Nutso, I take off your roof
Leave yo’ ass stretched out like a Cadillac coupe
God gotta let me in heaven, all the shit I’ve been through
I was a O.G. in the hood before I turned twenty-two
Homey I let the 38 special ripped through that vest
And I don’t contemplate whether or not he left his shit on the dresser
Got Compton on my back, I’m startin’ to feel the pressure
I’m lyrically Kool G. Rap on these Dre records
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I’ll be a gangsta ’til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell ’em where you from, nigga Westside
If you take a look in my eyes
You see I’ll be a gangsta ’til I die
That California chronic got me so high
Game tell ’em where you from, nigga Westside