State Of Emergency - The Game, Ice Cube

California ain't a state it's an army

One motherfucker in the projects 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 two-door

Sub whoofers in the trunk kickin that lethal injection

A hood nigga lost with no direction

So he bought a blacksmith in western strapped on his vest and that's his protection

At the intersection waitin on a rival cause in the city of angels it's all about survival

Fuck the 5-0 they wanna see you D.O.A welcome to L.A.

Where the ghetto birds flying over my auntie's and my cousin house

Tell me what they buzzin 'bout the lil homie got smoked on the corner

And now his momma cryin dead in California

Ice Cube:

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin' palm trees

The Game:

California ain't a state it's a army

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin' palm trees

Ice Cube:

California ain't a state it's a army

Jumped in my impala took a trip to the swap meet

To scoop up ego trippin' and a white tee

Cause some niggas in my old hood don't like me

Time to put they ass in check like my nikes

Shoulda hit my nigga mack 10 on the chirp

All I need is me and my bitch if you scared go to church

Cause them California niggas crack heads for the turf

And life ain't nothin' but tech nines and dirt

Dippin through the jungles my escalade hit a dip fuck

Here come the gorillas in the mist

And they dressed like ice cube was in 96'

Stone cold jehri curls not one drip

I'll sleep with the worms 'fore I swim with the fish

And I'll 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 couldn't hit a fence

Ice Cube:

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin' palm trees

The Game:

California ain't a state it's a army

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin' palm trees

Ice Cube:

California ain't a state it's a army

Call the U.S. government and tell 'em it's a motherfuckin code red

Niggas try to straight up jack me now they both dead

Third lil 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 him one time in sight so I bust a right

Oh century headed to the L.A.X where ain't nothin' but fly bitches and jets

In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked out brand nigga in a 600 throwin' up the set

He must don't know I got the 40 on deck and the tech

Tryna be shabba ranks time to flex thas the third time this shit happened to me all day

Guess it's time to add another dead body to the doorway

So I turned down my spice one tape and hit the switch

Emptied the whole clip in his fuckin' face

Ice Cube:

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't burn

And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin' palm trees

The Game:

California ain't a state it's a army

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn till the chronic blunt don't

And you can't see nothin' but the ghetto bird light shining through the fuckin' palm trees

Ice Cube:

California ain't a state it's a army

Both:

California ain't a state it's a army