[Chorus: Nino Man]
Had to get a bag on my own
Breaking curfue, mama always dragging me home
Niggas doing bad, but I ain't tagging along
On my side
The Westside, where I'm from, it's [?]
If you moving work, you better not talk on the phone
The feds like to grab you, when you up in your zone
On my side
The Westside, where teens feel like they grown
They ain't thinking 'bout no goals, rather throw on some gold
They ain't tryna make no food, when they cut on the stove
On my side
The Westside
The westside
The Westside
[Verse 1: Nino Man]
I'm from the Westside of Harlem
Somebody wanna take it there, then that's not a problem
Thought I told y'all [?] before, I be with trappers and robbers
I ain't talking nothing no more, the ratchet gon' solve it
I be out here O.D., so the racks can deposit
When I get home from the streets, I put the gat in the closet
One under the bed already, probably wrapped in some boxes
I ain't even starting shit, I'm just reacting to oppers
I ain't know what to do, when I was all on my own
Can't forget the days no one was calling my phone
It was me, [?] and [?], man, I got stories for days
We matured in a way, won't get it, but that's OK
'Cause we living, we getting paid, that's why niggas giving shade
Been on a different page, our chapters ain't been the same
I don't care if y'all judging me, all the real niggas fuck with me
Bad bitches loving me, on the west living luxury
[Chorus: Nino Man]
Had to get a bag on my own
Breaking curfue, mama always dragging me home
Niggas doing bad, but I ain't tagging along
On my side
The Westside, where I'm from, it's [?]
If you moving work, you better not talk on the phone
The feds like to grab you, when you up in your zone
On my side
The Westside, where teens feel like they grown
They ain't thinking 'bout no goals, rather throw on some gold
They ain't tryna make no food, when they cut on the stove
On my side
The Westside
The Westside
The Westside
[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
Capo!
We was tought to floss, before we get the greeze
I drop the top on the Porshe, when it's 6 degrees
I was tryna make a million, like I was Richard P
Now I cop Richard Millies, and exquisite V's
I'm from the Eastside of the H [?]
We learned to cut the blow, and then fiends [?]
Niggas getting knocking, then the feds [?] case [?]
Met him at the dealer, when he was tryna buy the Wraith
I guess the stars in the ceiling, had him feeling outer space
Couple things in my past, got me feeling out of place
Word travel fast, there was a killing up on 8th
Got me feeling like a villain, what I'm concealing on my waist
We ain't cut school, we said fuck school
You know the rest, a couple homies with the tucked tools
Nino [?] I've been out here for a while
The tops was all red [?]
'Cause I'm a threat
[Chorus: Nino Man]
Had to get a bag on my own
Breaking curfue, mama always dragging me home
Niggas doing bad, but I ain't tagging along
On my side
The Westside, where I'm from, it's [?]
If you moving work, you better not talk on the phone
The feds like to grab you, when you up in your zone
On my side
The Westside, where teens feel like they grown
They ain't thinking 'bout no goals, rather throw on some gold
They ain't tryna make no food, when they cut on the stove
On my side
The Westside
The Westside
The Westside
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