Compton Story

Uhh, uhh, gangsta gangsta yeah Uhh, uhh, it's gangsta gangsta yeah Uhh, uhh, shit I'm livin gangsta gangsta shit Yeah I'm from Compton, Compton, Murderville You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel Walk with me through the ghetto where the packs get sold And them niggaz sellin the work ain't half as old As the fiends and the hippies, same ones smokin since the 60's Everybody yellin gimme, gimme Every nigga in the hood, one hand on his jimmy Other hand grip the semi, c'mon walk with me Every ten houses, one got 'caine for sale And I give you a dope track like my name Phar-rell And you can get that stainless steel Walk in my Chuck Taylors for a day, if you think it ain't f'real When I buy rocks homey baguettes on my ring And only neighborhood watch is my Tecno Marine Keep a (Mac) on the block, I ain't talkin 'bout Beans QB in the hood and I'm far from Queens The boys in the hood is always hard So come through and get smoked like a Cuban cigar I'm from Compton, Compton, a block from hell And you can come get a bird for eleven And we ain't got a penny for the reverand, a dime for a witness Only (Church's) in the hood sell chicken (ba-KAW) Every nigga in the hood sell chickens move work like city buses You fuckin with the Hub City Hustler The vans on the block won't touch us, the streets my home So I move weight on the block like I'm Moses Malone Bring the guns anywhere I roam, go with the chrome And I hit all my shots, like I'm in the A.I. zone And mob like Al Capone through N.W.A.'s home Homes like Ed Jones will cripple your team up In the home of Dr. Dre, Venus and Serena Where 14-year-olds pack ninas and drive Beamers We ball up subpeonas, take niggaz to the cleaners And you know what I'm talkin about if y'all seen where. We drug dealin, but niggaz is squealin (fuck you rats) What more can I say, just kill 'em Fuck 'em, the gun bust 'em, we just knock on wood Now is this under-stooooooood? I mostly George when I whip, my supply is good The man behind the bricks, I'm supplyin the hood Catch bodies like Pistol Pete passes on the wood Benz parked by the fence, brick stashed in the hood Top work by the inch, I bag it, it's gone Ask Quik, we rock more than microphones Some niggaz ball, some niggaz do what we do And other niggaz sing for Cash Money like TQ The block will heat and sink you (hey dude) Cali ain't all palm trees, purple haze and sea dude Lose your life tryin to get these jewels I keep the 40 cal wrapped in chrome like R2-D2