"State Of Emergency" lyrics

[The Game:]
California ain't a state, it's a army!

One motherfucker in the projects killin'
The same motherfucker that'll would burn down the village
Where the chronic blunt full of that you know
Who gon' take you back to Compton in that '64 two-door
Sub woofers in the trunk kickin' that "Lethal Injection"
A hood nigga lost with no direction
So he bought a black Smith & Wesson
Strapped on his vest and that's his protection
At the intersection waitin' on the rival
'Cause in the city of Angels, it's all about survival
Fuck the 5-0. They wanna see you DOA
Welcome to LA
Where the ghetto birds flying over my auntie's and my cousin's house
Tell me what they're buzzing 'bout
The little homie got smoked on the corner
And now his mamma cryin', dead in California

[Ice Cube (The Game):]
Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn, 'til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird
Light shining through the fuckin' palm trees
(California ain't a state, it's a army)
(Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn, 'til the chronic blunt don't burn)
(And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird)
(Light shining through the fuckin' palm trees)
California ain't a state, it's a army

[The Game:]
Jumped in my Impala, took a trip to the swap meet
To scoop up "Ego Trippin" and some white Ts
'Cause some niggas in my old hood don't like me
Time to put the niggas on check like my Nikes
Shoulda heard my my nigga Mack 10 on the chirp
All I need is me and my bitch, if you scared go to church
'Cause in California, niggas crack heads for the turf
And life ain't nothing but TEC-9s and dirt
Dipping through the the jungles, my Escalade hit a dip
Fuck! Here come the gorillas in the mist
And they're dressed like Ice Cube was in '96
Stone cold jheri curls and not one drip
I sleep with the worms 'fore I swim with the fish
And I ride with my niggas 'fore I roll with a bitch
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
And I almost got shot 'cause I hit a fence

[Ice Cube & The Game:]
Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn, 'til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird
Light shining through the fuckin' palm trees
(California ain't a state, it's a army)
(Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn, 'til the chronic blunt don't burn)
(And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird)
(Light shining through the fuckin' palm trees)
California ain't a state, it's a army

[The Game:]
Call the U.S. government and tell em it's a motherfuckin' code red
Niggas tried to straight up jack me, now they're 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 Century, headed to the L.A.X.
Where there ain't nothin but fly bitches and jets
In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked
Off brand nigga in the 600 throwing up his set
He must don't know I got the 40 on deck
And the TEC tryna be Shabba Ranks, time to flex
It's the third this shit happened to me all day
Guess it's time to add another dead body to the throw away
So I turned down my Spice 1 tape
And hit the switch, emptied the whole clip in his fucking face

[Ice Cube & The Game:]
Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn, 'til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird
Light shining through the fuckin' palm trees
(California ain't a state, it's a army)
(Motherfuckers ain't gon' learn, 'til the chronic blunt don't burn)
(And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird)
(Light shining through the fuckin' palm trees)
California ain't a state, it's a army

[Ice Cube:]
California ain't a state, it's a army