[Chorus: The Game]

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

When we ride

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

Nigga, Westside

[Verse 1: Eastwood]

Yo, I caught him at the corner liquor store, ran him for his jewels

Told him "give me everything you got, hat to the shoes"

You done show me what it is, now show me what it do

I done jacked a gang of bitch ass niggas like you

My profile suspect I'm wanted for murder

Investigated by the feds on old shit I ain't heard of

In '94 they say ya boy was involved in a car jack

That's when my phone start trippin', I'm knowin' my shit tapped

Tryna tell me how I'm livin' like they BET

Sometimes I feel like there's a camera in my TV screen

I am the best, ever since my moms left

I ain't holdin' my breath, I'm prosecuted to death

It's Eastwood, I'm as deadly as turpentine

Spittin' venomous rhymes with more heart then Valentine's

When we ride

[Chorus: The Game]

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

When we ride

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

Nigga, Westside

[Verse 2: The Game]

Life is what you make it sometimes I see blatant

Visions of Satan, I been smokin' hell of them marijuana vapors

With dreams of gettin' paper on felonious capers

Run a car for neighbors, bangin' The Best of Anita Baker

Now is that sacred? When niggas spend money on Jacob's

And it's that same shit that get blood spilled on the pavement

I'm patiently waitin', for God to open heaven' gates and

I'll take a knife in my heart before I murder my neighbor

And for that I'm hated, 'cause most of they rhymin' is basic

Dropped one album and left the whole world stuck in amazement

Started with Rakim, found him in my mom's basement

One demo tape and I'm on Em and Dr. Dre shit

[Chorus: The Game]

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

When we ride

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

Nigga, Westside

[Verse 3: Techniec]

The 'hood got me feelin' like my back against the wall but I been here before

Let me fly or give me death, while I'm in here for dough

My pops used to hustle the corner in Lotto kicks

Attempt to try 'em on, didn't like that fit

Went after a record deal, shit I got that spit

Besides niggas ain't flyer than Tech at this shit

I'm a natural nigga, so it's only right to boss up

After these figures, so classical nigga

Had to document the avenue, study the set

Back to the OG's, create a new avenue nigga

So we could ride, rims spinnin' off the chrome

Check the rearview, Wave spittin' off the dome

Honey, the Westcoast is on

[Chorus: The Game]

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

When we ride

Three killas on the rise

Come through screamin' homicide when we ride

Nigga, Westside