If Pirus and Crips all got along They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song Seem like the whole city go against me Every time I'm in the street I hear "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!" "Man down Where you from, nigga?" "Fuck who you know, where you from, my nigga?" "Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?" "This m.A.a.d city I run, my nigga" Brace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane This is not a rap on how I'm slingin crack or move cocaine This is cul-de-sac and plenty Cognac and major pain Not the drill sergeant, but the stress that weighing on your brain It was me, L Boog, and Yan Yan, YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans It got ugly, waving your hand out the window, check yo self Uh, Warriors and Conans Hope euphoria can slow dance with society The driver seat the first one to get killed Seen a light-skinned nigga with his brains blown out At the same burger stand where-, hang out Now this is not a tape recording saying that he did it But ever since that day, I was lookin' at him different That was back when I was nine Joey packed the nine Pakistan on every porch is fine We adapt to crime, pack a van with four guns at a time With the sliding door, fuck is up? Fuck you shootin' for if you ain't walkin up you fuckin' punk? Pickin' up the fuckin' pump Pickin' off you suckers, suck a dick or die or sucker punch A wall of bullets comin' from Ak's, AR's, "Aye y'all. Duck" That's what momma said when we was eatin' that free lunch Aw man, God damn, all hell broke loose You killed my cousin back in '94, fuck yo' truce Now crawl yo' head in that noose You wind up dead on the news Ain't no peace treaty, just piecin' Bgs up to pre-approve, bodies on top of bodies Iv's on top of IV's Obviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys When you hop on that trolley Make sure your color's correct Make sure you're corporate, or they'll be calling your mother collect They say the governor collect, all of our taxes except When we in traffic and tragic happens, that shit ain't no threat You movin' backwards if you suggest that you sleep with a TEC Go buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial, I guess M.a.a.d city "Man down Where you from, nigga?" "Fuck who you know, where you from, my nigga?" "Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?" "This m.A.a.d city I run, my nigga" If Pirus and Crips all got along They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song Seem like the whole city go against me Every time I'm in the street I hear "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk! Wake yo' punk ass up! It ain't nothin but a Compton thang Chyea Real simple and plain "Let me teach you some lessons about the street (Smoke somethin', nigga) Hood ('sup, cuz? Wassup? nah, nah, nah, fuck that, nah) Ain't nothin but a Compton thang Chyea (we got five on it) How we do Fresh outta school 'cause I was a high school grad Sleeping in the living room of my momma's pad Reality struck I seen the white car crash Hit the light pole two nigga's hopped out on foot and dashed (watch out cuz) My Pops said I needed a job I thought I believed him Security guard for a month and ended up leaving In fact I got fired 'cause I was inspired by all of my friends To stage a robbery the third Saturday I clocked in Projects tore up, gang signs get thrown up (wassup?) Cocaine laced in marijuana And they wonder why I rarely smoke now Imagine if your first blunt had you foaming at the mouth I was straight tweaking the next weekend we broke even I made allegiance that made a promise to see you bleeding You know the reasons but still won't ever know my life Kendrick AKA Compton's human sacrifice (yeah) Cocaine, weed Nigga's been mixing shit since the 80's, loc Sherm sticks, butt-nakeds, dip Make a nigga flip Cluck heads all up and down the block and shit One time's crooked and shit Block a nigga in Alondra, Rosecrans, Bullis, it's Compton I'm still in the hood Loc yeah that's cool (chyea) The hood took me under so I follow the rules But yeah that's like me, I grew up in the hood where they bang And niggas that rep colors is doing the same thing Pass it to the left so I can smoke on me A couple drive-bys in the hood lately (chyea) Couple of IV's with the fucking spray-can Shots in the crowd then everybody ran Crew I'm finna slay, the street life I crave Shots hit the enemy, harsh turn brave Mount up regulators in the whip Down the boulevard with the pistol grip (chyea) Trip, we in the hood still So loc, grab a strap 'cause chyeah, it's so real (chyea) Deal with the outcome, a strap in the hand And a bird and ten grand's where motherfuckers stand If I told you I killed a nigga at sixteen, would you believe me? Or see me to be innocent Kendrick you seen in the street With a basketball and some Now & Laters to eat If I mentioned all of my skeletons, would you jump in the seat? Would you say my intelligence now is great relief? And it's safe to say that our next generation maybe can sleep With dreams of being a lawyer or doctor Instead of boy with a chopper that hold the cul de sac hostage Kill 'em all if they gossip, the Children of the Corn They vandalizing the option of living a lie, drown their body with toxins Constantly drinking and drive, hit the powder then watch this flame That arrive in his eye, listen coward, the concept is aim and then bang it and slide out that bitch with deposit A price on his head, the tithes probably go to the projects, I live inside the belly of the rough Compton, U.S.A. made me an angel on angel dust, what? (Compton) M.A.A.d city Compton Nigga, pass Dot the bottle, damn You ain't the one that got fucked up What you holdin' it for? Niggas always actin' unsensitive and shit Nigga, that ain't no word Nigga, shut up Hey, Dot, you good, my nigga? Don't even trip Just lay back and drink that
