Текст песни Late Nite - WC , Daz Dillinger

Daz: Sup Dub?
WC: Sup Daz? You know what we are right?
Daz: Real G shit you know what I'm saying?
WC: God damn right. Still. What we call it nigga?
Daz: Westcoast! All day nigga. Yeah. C'mon!

(Still)
Poppin out a light on a late nite. Fire up a Phillie Blunt to get my head right
Rolling in my 500 Benz
In the home of drivebys and ak-matics

I rep this city of angels, wearing round locos, dulo and bangya
Built off the anger
Attracted to the danger, I love the drama on what it brings
Drug rank, the game seem like a still of jeans
But allusion niggas losin', that's how it goes down
Conclusion ain't losin', when I dump those rounds, at ya clowns (ha ha ha ha)
Homie don't play that, from then and down now, nigga OG playback (OG nigga!)
Sit back relax, smoke one, let me drive
Glide though the coastal region, atmosphere, (dead and alive?)
Weed in the air, dubs up, nigga burn the rubber
Life ain't fair but take that motherfuckers
Show them how to come and go then run up they can die slow
Hold court in the street, nigga fuck the po-po
(?) was stuck in my ways, I can't change
Worldwide, niggas dyin' for the same old thangs

The S to O to the U-T-H C-E-N-T-R-A-L
Got me turnt on, a nigga, It ain't ha-a-ard to tell
From the way I bail
I'm from the capital L
A, and you can tell from the way my weed sme-e-ell
I try to shake it, but I'm in the (deep sorrow?)
From back then when them busters threw led on my car
So I cope the automatic, ya, the avoid the close caskets
Enemies, and all these thirsty-ass ratchets
Never put your trust in
The cemetery is full of niggas who thought that bitch was they best friend
But not me, niggas told me, I bang on my loney
Keep my thang on me, cuz every homie ain't a homie
And all day and late night the bud get lit
And even though its fucked up, nigga I love the shit
It ain't a shame, it's the real nigga
Fuck what's right
From my hood to your hood, you know whats up tonight

Roll the ammo
Good with handles
Pack like rambo, hit the back of the part then gamble
California, better keep ya pistol on ya
Cuz every nigga down to shoot ya like Christopher Dorner
Let the bullets lash out (uh)
Pull the rags on em
Rollin wit' D-A-Z and Dub-C in the glasshouse
And pay homage when you see them fingers swaging
Ain't a damn thang change, but we know what we claiming

We the west coaster
Double barrels in the holster
Ferocious, up on a BEOTCH so you know so
Blow the roof down
Shut it down so quick
By the end of the night, we gone fuck your BITCH (beotch)
Said shit that should've come from free dues, get paid
Ain't afraid, point-blank shit get fade
Made an example what nigga, how you down with
West coast mentality is what its killed with

Daz: Yeah, west coast gangsta shit, Dub
WC: Nothin' less, nigga
Daz: Yeah, uh
WC: ha ha ha, can't fuck wit' this
Daz: BITCH!