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[Chorus:]

Walkin' down the street, and ma allstarz,
In ma khaki suit, doin what I do
Walkin' down the street, smokin chronic,
In ma black lotus, lookin' at you

---------------

Guess who's back on the west coast tracks,
Its the mother f**king messiah and gangsta raps,
Still dippin the 6-4, still puffin on the same chronic,
Haters mad 'cause I still got it
I never fall off even without the doc'
You n****s sellin your soul tryin to stay on top,
B***h n***a checkin kotex,
You n****s aint movin s**t like the hand on a fake a** rollex

I'm 5 million sold the cover of my last album
The only time you see me sittin on gold
I'm the most anticipated, the most celebrated
The most loved and the mother f***in most hated,
Keep rollin like gold daytons
N****s got the game f***ed up like Henessey with a coke chaser,
You gotta deal with me I'm the west coast savior
N****s think of me everytime they 6-4 scrape,
What do you call a n***a whose older,
Parady, belligerance, foul defined,
And very disrespectful, you call that n***a a doctor's advocate,
He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his hey day in the worst way,
The 5 star surgeon / general took Jayson
To the aftermath research department,
And gave 'em a blood test, that came back G-A-M-E positive,
The n****s infected with the game virus,
His oraltorical skills are so impeckable, that n****s in the street call him Sirus,
The young damu is down with violence cause in his heart he's a tyrant
Its not a game, it's just called the game,
There will be no referee, no half time report,
When the game is over, the game is over,
You can't put a quarter in the machine and get 3 more men,
That's the end

[Chorus:]

Walkin' down the street, and my allstarz,
In my khaki suit, doin what I do
Walkin' down the street, smokin chronic,
In ma black lotus, lookin' at you

-------------

I'd of been to hell and back, left for dead, you know who to thank for that,
Finished my second lp without a Dr. Dre track,
You can take my soul but you can't take my plaques,
I'm the mother f***in' snair when you touch the beat,
I'm the 808 drum that got you movin your feet,
I'm the heir to the throne after the D-are-E,
Product of my enviorment you old a** n****s get ready for your early retirement,
Before I let hip-hop burn down I'll run in the buildin like a fireman
Who can out spit me when I'm high off sticky,
Throwin back Patrone shots in some creased up dickies
I'm D. O. C certified, ice cube lenched me, snoop stamped me and the good doc hand picked me,
You still wit me? Me and my mic can't be separated like interscope and...(haha)

Good s**t
Some good a** mother f***in' weed
The california sticky green
This is the aftermath of the aftermath
West coast!



Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/t/the_game/lookin_at_you.html

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