"L.A.! Californ-I-A!" (repeat 4X) It all started on a Saturday night, I was at the Tilt Faded off a eightball, when I got the phone call I recognized the voice right off the bat Octavia, a.k.a. the neighbor-hood-rat I used to run up in her but I had to play broke cause the bitch was known to twist mo' than hundred spokes Talkin bout a party she was givin and niggaz was dippin She wanted me and my crew to come through and I couldn't find CJ, Toones was out of town And Mack and Cube wasn't out nowhere to be found And all that bendin solo shit, played out with Cooley High Even in the movie Damon caught a black eye bitch! Ain't no peace treaty motherfuckers is losin In nineteen-ninety-eight, ain't too many niggaz chosin So what makes you think I'm comin out tonight hoe? You must be on Triple D: Dick, Dope and Dynamite She kept claimin that security was tight And if I came, we'd both be comin tonight So I jumped off my kizznouch, grabbed a coat and my coat Picturin my dick all down this bitch throat Loaded up my heater, took the black nina Jumped in my rizzide, headed for the Westside Rollin in the rigga with the naughty Bumpin "Flashlight" fool, headed for the party "L.A.! Californ-I-A!"