CHORUS 1: Tell the West, twist up a doja sack Why, CalDoJa’s back Ain’t no way that they can stop me now Try to put me in the ground and I zombie’d out, yeah
REPEAT
VERSE 1: They tried to hold me down to the ground, submission Now I’m back up and ain’t a damn day bitchin’ Ima roll up in the kitchen, take all the product Throw up my deuces, tell em all holler
On twitter with theyr ten fingers twitchin’ I don’t give a fuck if your trippin Ima do it, one breathe a a time, dumb def on the rhyme Until it’s done like 70 times
Keep it old school like a flip top Nintendo Pack that bowl up call it techmo...Lights your hands up like your tripping to some dead mous5 techno Ye hoes, that’s how the fuckin' West goes
RIP shows, keep em on their God blessed tip toes, Top 10 homie, top that Eat so much that I can’t even digest and they All want a piece of the pie, what am I top chef
The mic phone is an object that I wreck I object to you standing on my continent I’m next, playboy, I checked and when I’m in SD, I’m throwing up West Side
So let’s ride, and go’on get it Still got the D on my New Era fitted From TJ to LA, Kush is my cologne and they smell me All over PB like jelly
CHORUS 2: Tell the West, twist up a doja sack Why, CalDoJa’s back Ain’t no way that they can stop me now Try to put me in the ground and I zombie’d out, yeah
REPEAT
VERSE 2: You ain’t seen a muscle till you seen me flex But I don’t move one muscle ‘til I see them checks Till then I’m rollin’ down the street like a BMX Gettig my bark on to DMX
Hold noff on making movies and make moves A couple hundred grand in the pocket, that’ll do Now I’m back to rappin’, smacking all these fools Who try to jump on the mic and act like they is smooth
Killin em slow’ They must be gay the way they feeling him so About to boss up, call it “Z-Billiam” Rap on any beat, the chameleon, Trip the fuck out like Terry Gilliam
Fear and Loathe original flows while Doj just pop bottles and roll sensie tight And I party like the fucking world ends tonight If it does then I guess that means we friends for life
If not, it’s breakfast, what’s next, check this Go and get my checklist, what’s that Wreck shit, bet that Don’t forget to mark of the ones that say dope it like a meth lab and ref it like chess match
yeah, Caldoj got the best batch all I need is a fucking aprin and a chef hat show em ent, we gonna rep that, straight to the death, now let me go get my breathe back
Yeah, it’s the champion Tell ‘em sleep on it, go and take an ambien Put a week on it, till you understand me son If you could see a thousand leagues you couldn’t fathom, thus
Ima run up my tab til im sittin on a tilday Pop me some bottles , have a field day And I don’t wanna here a sound when I touch down but “puff, cough” From the state where they never take the dubs off CHORUS 3: Tell the West, twist up a doja sack Why, CalDoJa’s back Ain’t no way that they can stop me now Try to put me in the ground and I zombie’d out, yeah
