[Hook] Roll slow when we slide through the west, no fear in my chest, just crime on the brain, Street code tatted in my soul, no fold, every move that I make got weight to the name. Sirens in the distance, but we ride, no brakes, just vibe when the night turn cold, This that crime wave west, no rest, big step when the story get told. [Verse 1] I’m a west side menace, chrome tip, no gimmick, City of the angels but the halo look wicked. Palm trees lean while the streetlights buzz, Everybody know the name, what it was, what it does. Bandana in the pocket, that’s a lifetime oath, Either ride for the squad or you stand with the ghosts. Talk tough on the net, but they freeze on sight, Out here one wrong word turn day into night. [Pre-Hook] Concrete jungle where the lies get checked, Every false flex get a price, that’s debt. From the block to the hills, all feel that drum, Bass hit hard like the kick from a gun. [Hook] Roll slow when we slide through the west, no fear in my chest, just crime on the brain, Street code tatted in my soul, no fold, every move that I make got weight to the name. Sirens in the distance, but we ride, no brakes, just vibe when the night turn cold, This that crime wave west, no rest, big step when the story get told. [Verse 2] Black hoodie, black gloves, that’s the anthem fit, Every corner got a story they don’t publish in print. OGs on the porch still schooling the youth, Either stack or you fall, that’s the harsh raw truth. Whips on switches, we glide like ghosts, But the past in the trunk, can’t escape what it holds. Every scar on the skin is a verse in the book, Every stare in the mirror is a harder look. [Bridge] This ain’t just flex, this survival on beat, Where the chalk lines fade but the pain don’t leave. Raise your set in the sky if you down for the code, West coast in the blood, that’s the only mode. [Final Hook] Roll slow when we slide through the west, no fear in my chest, just crime on the brain, Street code tatted in my soul, no fold, every move that I make got weight to the name. Sirens in the distance, but we ride, no brakes, just vibe when the night turn cold, This that crime wave west, no rest, big step when the story get told.

Whispers of the West Coast