[Intro: Kurupt]
Yeah, this for the West Coast CD
Let me clear my throat
Check it out, check it out, check it out
We gonna drop it like this
This album is the best of both worlds
(Kurupt, Daz Dilly)
This for the West Coast side (Young Gotti)
(Don't forget about Tray Deee and Slip Capone)
This for the West Coast one, ha, ha

[Verse 1: Kurupt]
Saggin', n***a G'd up, sippin'
Sip n***a, dip n***a, set trip n***a
Got a grip, n***a? Get a grip, n***a, with Tha Gang and
Rollin' with the alpine bangin'
Homie, what you got? A couple sacks to sell
Went from weed to dope to max the sale
Hit the switch, n***a
Don't fuck around with bitch n***as
I'm a money cash n***a, cash gettin', hash hittin'
Gangbang affiliate, hit a stick real quick
And in a minute start killin' shit real quick
I'm a million dollar motherfuckin' n***a
I thought you knew 'bout it, 'bout it, 'bout it, do you got it?
Now the homies 'bout it, I'm about to do this
Hit a lick, then hit back with some new shit
Then have a gangsta reunion, the homie told me
Get'cha boogie on youngsta; C-Walk, homie
[Hook: Kurupt]
(Get'cha walk on)
C-Walk, homie
C-Walk, homie
(Get'cha walk on)
C-Walk, homie
Yeah, I'ma tell you like this
Kurupt, you know how it was for me

[Verse 2: Tray Deee]
Been regarded as the hardest since I hit the set
Young n***a with a rep, kept that gangsta step
Blue Crocka sacs or blue Corduroy house shoes on
Flossin' for the hoodrats, gettin' my groove on
Hangin' in the park 'til all hours of dark
Tryin' to catch a mark slippin' with this thing that bark
Cry Baby on the swamp got the exit locked
And ain't no doubt comin' out he gon' wreck you not
Pass me the satin loc so I can wet my throat
While I sag the blue khakis with the Raider coat
All the hoes really want is gangstas just like us
Rough and don't give a fuck—ain't that right, Kurupt?
I stay bangin' on these n***as on a regular basis
Big paper chases, facin' felony cases
Made it to be famous, livin' hard and dangerous
Steppin' on these bustas in my blue Chuck Taylor's
[Hook: Kurupt + (Slip Capone)]
C-Walk, homie
C-Walk, homie
C-Walk, homie
(Hah, Hawthorne is in the house)
C-Walk, homie
(And we C-Walkin', ya dig it?)
C-Walk, homie

[Verse 3: Slip Capone]
You know that gangstas rock, gangstas roll
Here's the gangsta shit, we on a gangsta stroll
'Cause gangstas ride, gangstas slide
In the gangsta ride with the gangsta glide
'Cause gangstas move and gangstas groove
Most gangstas got nothin' to lose
Gangstas live, and gangstas die
Gangstas form a gang and the gang multiply
Gangstas give a fuck, a G don't ask why
Gangstas don't snitch, and gangstas don't cry
Gangstas boogie, gangstas don't dance
Gangsta pull the strap out yo' pants and blast
Gangstas don't run and gangstas don't hide
I'm a gangsta-ass n***a from the sick Southside
That's how I know exactly what a gangsta do
You love the gangsta shit, ain't you a gangsta too?
Then C-Walk, homie!
[Hook/Outro: Kurupt]
C-Walk, homie
Slip Capone—C-Walk, homie!
O.G. Tray Deee—C-Walk, homie!
Kurupt, Dat N***a Daz, Soopafly
Now walk on 'em!
C-Walk, homie
C-Walk, homie
Now walk on 'em!