Compton 4 Life - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

Title: Compton 4 Life
Artist: Compton'S Most Wanted
Composer(s): Mc Eihl A Simon

Lyric:
Life, life, life

It's the city of jackers, swindlers, pimps and hoes
And niggas that bang and slang in kilo's
Where the rule is 'Fool, we don't play that'
Bomb to your motherfuckin' lip, watch it get fat

4 deep in a car on a mission
Load up the glock and watch it start spittin'
Nobody understands the gang mentality
I don't give a fuck, just want to see some casualties

And we'll beat your ass down with the quickness
Busters know that they can't get with this
Put the sweat down on a fool at the bus stop
Wrong set, wrong move, get smoothed popped

Gots to make our money on the corner
Try to squeeze, nigga please, a straight goner
Survival of the fittest with a gun or a knife
Geah 'cause it's Compton 4 life

Hey man, what's up, nigga? This [Incomprehensible]
Compton, Compton
Hey man, what's up, nigga? This [Incomprehensible]
Compton
(Life, life, life, life)

One more 'Drive-by Miss Daisy'
It's for the hood and nigga, we straight crazy
Fools can't cope when we belling
Throw up your hood 'cause it's Compton we yellin'

Still sellin' that yayo, oh no
Watch out for the tape that's made by 5-0
Look into the eyes of the 12 gauge barrel
My t-shirt and khaki's with house shoes is the apparel

Just call me a nigga with a problem
Better yet a troubleshooter 'cause I'ma shoot the enemy
When I see the white of his eyes
You'll have a funeral every night
'Cause one of your homies dies

Geah, it don't mean nothin' to us, ready to buss
A thousand motherfuckers and we kick up much dust
Another dead, chalk up one for the hood tonight
Geah, right, nigga 'cause it's Compton 4 life
(Life, life, life)

It's the city where everybodies in prison
Niggas keep takin' shit 'cause ain't nobody givin'
So another punk fool I must beat
Learned the tricks of the trade from the street

Anxious to put the jack down, ready and willin'
One more Compton drive-by killin'
One more nigga that got jacked 'cause he's a dummy
One more fool that got smoked for the money

And we got evil ass bitches just like witches
Got to keep the hoes because they set up snitches
Niggas run off at the mouth, here goes the nine
Peel your cap if you wanna drop the dime

Go to jail, hell, might as well be off with the head
So I bail from the police officer
'Cause if I surrender to the white
It won't be no more Compton 4 life, geah

Hey man, what's up, nigga? This [Incomprehensible]
Compton, Compton
Hey man, what's up, nigga? This [Incomprehensible]
Compton
(Life, life, life, life)

Hey man, what's up, nigga? This [Incomprehensible]
Compton, Compton
Hey man, what's up, nigga? This [Incomprehensible]
Compton's in da house
(Life, life, life, life)

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This Is A Gang - Lyrics - Compton'S Most Wanted

Title: This Is A Gang
Artist: Compton'S Most Wanted
Composer(s): Mc Eihl T Allen

Lyric:
Niggas duck as I make another hit, the psycho just dont quit
And I'm living in the land of the fucked up shit
I guess everybody's hungry for the mutherfucking snaps
That's why my niggas peel caps
Got you on the damn run like Ron Brown
And when we start to clown, we shut your whole fucking hood down
And I see some hesitation
I shot your homey 3 months ago, so wheres the fucking retatiation
No, I didn't think so
Another punk bitch I pimped like a hoe
Mmm I dont think you sorry clowns wanna see me
Age 13 living life like a B.G
Hand me the damn 38 so I can set the score straight
And let the enemy meet his fate
In it to win it and I don't give a fuck
Yo listen up

This is a gang, and I'm in it
Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rolling 4 deep
This is a gang, and I'm in it
You don't like how I'm living well fuck you

2 Years pass in O.B.G
Spent half of my life in L.P
Geah, now I'm out and I'm ready to sweat
A sorry fool who aint down with my fucking set
Nigga, stay clear of the gun blast
If you thinking about ducking you better duck fast
Oops, too late you got popped in the process
Another point for the hood, one laid to rest
Like a cannibal, I wanna see meat
Killing punk fools from the wrong side of the street
Me and the homies rolling 4 deep
Niggas on the run all strapped with fucking guns
Ain't no time for you to think about ducking
When we start thinking who we start sticking
Like I said, I don't give a fuck
Yo listen up

This is a gang, and I'm in it
Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rolling 4 deep
This is a gang, and I'm in it
You don't like how I'm living well fuck you

This is a gang, Compton's Most Wanted
This is a gang, punk rolling 4 deep
This is a gang, and I'm in it
You don't like how I'm living well fuck you

A tisket, a tasket
Geah I see another one of your homies in a casket
And to me thats a fucking shame
Cause your R.I.P. 3 and no ones to blame
Fool, can't deal when we roll on your fucking set
Call me a threat because you know I aint dont yet
So I feel I gotta warn ya
Me and my crew kill fucking transformers
Geah, toe to toe in the middle of the street
Turn the other cheek as the Eiht commence to beat
And I really can't stand this
One more right to your fucking jaw as your ass hit the canvas
Now my niggas on the run stomp
As the Compton criminals, we down another punk chump
Like I said CMW dont give a fuck
Geah, listen up

Geah, back for the mutherfucking nine deuce
MC Eiht, DJ Slip in the mutherfucking house. Geah

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Turn'Al - Peepin' Tom - Lyrics - Knoc

Title: Turn'Al - Peepin' Tom
Artist: Knoc
Composer(s): Larry Gates, Royal Rosheam Harbor

Lyric:
Yeah, it's how we do
This a little story about uh
A nigga you know well, Knoc-Turn'al

I can see you watching waitin' in my garden
In my bushes plottin'
Peepin' Tom's in my home lookin' in my window

Once upon a time in the projects, yo
There lived a nigga named Knoc-Turn'al
America's most wanted, for sho'
In a black Lo-Lo, with tinted windows

I'm just cruisin' down the street in my 6-4
Checking all my traps and all my hoes
Life is, too short, I stay on my toes
G'd up, spill gin and juice on brand new clothes

Pulled up, hit a switch and dropped the back
On the prowl in a black hat lookin' for cats
I got a chrome plaque that reads, "Who's the Mac?"
Black pussy, always talk about it 'cause I love it

This California love got a nigga drunk in public
Express yo' self, keep doin' it good
Got white on the block, keep the heat in the bush
Keep risin' to the top, keep smokin' the kush

The boys in the hood are always hard
Come talkin' that trash, we'll pull your guard
Knowin' nothin' in life but to be legit
Can't trust my homies, can't trust no bitch

Don't quote me boy, 'cause I ain't say shit
It's hotter on the block than it is in the kitchen
And I'm hard in the paint, listen, I'm steady dippin'
I get down, while your bullshittin'

And these are the tales, the freaky tales
Of a nigga on the grind that you know so well
Got a system in your trunk then I'm jacking for beats
Black Superman, I put it down for L.A.C

Just as grip the pump in my lap at all times
Fools be jackin' other fools but they don't be jackin' mine
Summer time in the L.B.C. fuck the police
Fuck being bound by law and the peace treaty

We be clubbin', everybody likes when the girls shake somethin'
System overload, stay bumpin'
It's thug life, y'all know the rules
Gotta do what ya gotta do, and stay true

Propose a toast to the West Coast
Easily I approach the microphone because I ain't no joke
Tell your mama to get off of my dip
I have no time to give her my dick

I'm gonna hold it and walk around the stage
And if you fuck up, I'm gonna get my gauge and shrivel you up
Like California raisins, unload the barrel and laugh
'Cause I'm puttin lead in your motherfuckin' ass

I can see you watching waitin' in my garden
In my bushes plottin'
Peepin' Tom's in my home lookin' in my window

I'm on the radio, and ain't a damn thing funny
It's just like Compton, bitch better have my money
I messed up and I don't know why
Tryin' to get a piece of that American Pie

Do my thing, blow off the roof on 187-Proof
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's the formula, murder was the case that they gave me
Dear God, I wonder can You save me?

Dear Mama, Brenda had a baby
Hard times got a nigga goin' crazy
The hood can't take me under, it's a G-thang
We backyard bullyin' in the land where we bang

Gangsta's make the world go 'round
What's my motherfuckin' name?
Knoc-Turn'al, and I didn't even have to use my AK
Today was a good day

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9996b8b19ee0adee351cf36bc53f6261

No Vaseline - Lyrics - Death Certificate - Ice Cube

Title: No Vaseline
Album: Death Certificate
Artist: Ice Cube
Composer(s): Anthony (Pka Sir Wheaton, George Jr Clinton, Ice Cube O'Shea Jackson, Jinx David L Spradley, Garry M Shider, Bobby F Ervin

Lyric:
Here's what they think about you
Here's what they think about you
Here's what they think about you

Got damn, I'm glad ya'll set it off
Used to be hard, now you're just wet and soft
First you was down with the AK
And now I see you on a video with Michelle

Lookin' like straight pozas
I saw it comin', that's why I went solo
And kept on stompin'
When ya'll mothafuckers moved straight outta Compton

Livin' with the whites, one big house
And not another nigga in site
I started off with too much cargo
Dropped four niggas now I'm makin' all the dough

White man just rulin'
The niggas with attitudes, who ya foolin'?
Ya'll niggas just phony
I put that on my mama and my dead homeys

Yella boy's on your team, so you're losin'
Ay yo, Dre, stick to producin'
Callin' me Arnold, but you been a dick
Eazy E saw your ass and went in it quick

You got jealous when I got my own company
But I'm a man, and ain't nobody helpin' me
Tryin' to sound like Amerikkka's Most
You could yell all day but you don't come close

'Cuz you know I'm the one that flown
Ya done run 100 miles, but you still got one to go
With the L E N C H M O B, and ya'll disgrace the C P T
'Cuz you're gettin' fucked out your green by a white boy
With no Vaseline

Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline
Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline
Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline
Damn, it feels good to see people on it

The bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'
Who gives a fuck about a punk-ass villain?
You're gettin' fucked real quick
And Eazy's dick, is smellin' like MC Ren's shit

Tried to tell you a year ago
But Willie D told me to let a hoe be a hoe, so
I couldn't stop you from gettin' ganked
Now let's play big-bank-take-little-bank

Tried to dis Ice Cube, it wasn't worth it
'Cuz the broomstick fit your ass so perfect
Cut my hair and I'll cut them balls
'Cuz I heard you're, like givin' up the drawers

Gang-banged by your manager, fella
Gettin' money out your ass, like a mothafuckin' ready teller
Givin' up the dollar bills
Now they got the villain with a purse and high-heels

So don't believe what Ren say
'Cuz he's goin' out like Kunte Kinte
But I got a whip for ya Toby
Used to be my homey, now you act like you don't know me

It's a case of divide and conquer
'Cuz you let a Jew break up my crew
House nigga gotta run and hide
Yellin' Compton, but you moved to Riverside

So don't front, MC Ren
'Cuz I remember when you drove a B 2-10
Broke as a mothafuckin' joke
Let you on the scene to back up the Verse Team

It ain't my fault, one nigga got smart
and they rippin' your asshole apart
By takin' your green, oh yeah
The Villain does get fucked with no Vaseline

Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline

I never have dinner with the President
I never have dinner with the President
I never have dinner with the President
And when I see your ass again, I'll be hesitant

Now I think you a snitch
Throw a house nigga in a ditch
Half-pint bitch, fuckin' your homeboys
You little maggot Eazy E turned faggot

With your manager, fella
Fuckin' MC Ren, Dr Dre and Yella
But if they were smart as me
Eazy E would be hangin' from a tree

With no Vaseline
Just a match and a little bit of gasoline
Light 'em up, burn 'em up, flame on
Till that Jheri curl is gone

On a permanent vacation
Off the Massa plantation
Heard you both got the same bank account
Dumb nigga, what you thinkin' 'bout?

Get rid of that Devil real simple
Put a bullet in his temple
'Cuz you can't be the Nigga 4 Life crew
With a white Jew tellin' you what to do

Pullin' wools with your scams
Now I gotta play the Silence of the Lambs
With a midget who's a punk too
Tryin' to fuck me, but I'd rather fuck you

Eric Wright, punk, always into somethin'
Gettin' fucked at night
By Mista Shitpacker
Bend over for the goddamn cracker, no Vaseline

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Chain Remains - Lyrics - Poverty's Paradise - Naughty By Nature

Title: Chain Remains
Album: Poverty's Paradise
Artist: Naughty By Nature
Composer(s): Keir Gist, Vincent Brown, Anthony Criss, Bryce Wilson

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Lyric:
Right about now I think it's time you explained to everybody
The real reason you wear this chain around your neck tight

Yo, yo this Puff Daddy number 1 6 double 0 3 0 5 0
Representin' Davenport the experimental prison
Y' kno' whut I'm sayin'? Representin' double I for life 1 18

Too many of my people got time it shows as crime unfolds
Many snap in a trap now new minds explode
Learn the ability to find their goals
Locked in a facility where time is froze

God knows the heart hurts to see no sky, just dirt
They give a man a cell quick before they give a man work
So we get into this black, this black cat syndrome
Grow older like there's no heart and no soul ingrown

Bars and cement instead of help for our people
Jails ain't nothin' but the slave day sequel
Tryin' to flee the trap of this nation
Seein' penitentiary's the plan, ta plant the new plantation

They say we'll take the animals from cottons and crops
Straight to forgotten wit locks, plottin' to rottin' our stocks
They draw a crooked line and wait for your foot ta fall under
Serving most of my brothers another football number

Judges look at our seeds, these brothers like enemies saying
"We don't need G's" giving out years like free cheese
Free please, nigga, ain't no freedom who's locked up?
Who's shot up? Who's strung out? Who's bleeding?
Keep reading, I'm here to explain the chain remain the same
Maintain for the brothers and sisters locked

The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains

Prisoner 1 5 4 3 0 5 0 representin' Jersey all y'all niggas better back
The fuck up, man, it's gettin' busy, yo this is Big Kym
Comin' straight outta Compton, I'm locked up in Fort Dix, New Jersey
Number 0 7 3 9 3 0 6 7 I, I be checkin' y'all out in 1997, later

Nowadays still we're captured, still hear wicked laughter while shackled
We're beaten and battered then cuffed after we're tackled
We're tugged while increasing the mugged and indecent
Hit one more time, wit a black jack then dragged in the precinct

Still don't know what the back and forth, looking meaner
Meant stripped made into a convict, booked then fingerprinted
How many more times of this humiliation?
How many more bouts do we have to lose

While we fight for our rights in this nation
That we supposed ta have since birth
But the breaks on the bricks get worse so it's jail first
And that's all they offer us, ain't that right Mr. Officer?

The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains

The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains

This is Orion 15 4 31 0 5 0, up in Tennessee outta Fort Dix
Representin' Cleveland and Ill town

Some rob blocks does it matter or should it?
While ghetto's dodge, cops duck bullets and pull it, I
(Hang out and hustle wit my friends)
'Til the end, 'til the day we burn pens

Ain't no mystery we need victory
The system conspired, the days of the riots ain't retired
But brothers staying calm cos they soldiers
'Til when the only solutions revolution, no we told ya

The chain remains 'til we arise
Stuck in a land where we ain't meant to survive
And I hope this don't suit ya, some work
Like a slave ta get a hit but won't work to save for a future

And that's when the cost is the man within
And we're just as lost as the land we in
Some blast, some based, some dropped down
And most who sold it right now are locked down and rocked round
And it's been happenin' so much
That they make it so that it ain't even no shock now

The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains
The chain remains

This is Lil' Steve 1 6 0 0 6 0 5 0, chillin' at Fort Dix
Representin' 118 get out in '96
(The chain remains)
Peace then this is, aah Lil' Pers, aah 14 6 23 0 1 6 Washington DC
Right now I'm up in Fort Dix, aah, Jersey outdated is 12/25/2003

Way I'm thinkin' is, aah, it's on mad stuff
And we all better do somethin' for the brothers
Who is locked dizzown 'cos they locked down
And I don't care if we definitely lock down the heat
Do something, do somethin' bad, peace out

Yo what's up, this Terreet Pett, formerly known as 1 11 7 19
I'd like to give a couple of shouts to some of the brothers
I was locked down wit in Borentown, Aleem Jones
Kenneth Myall, Big Will, Baskerville, Big Bruvon Fuller
My man Asherkol from Camden, Big Jahud from Camden
And I'm out

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Creep N Crawl - Lyrics - Str8 Off the Streets of Muthap - Eazy E

Title: Creep N Crawl
Album: Str8 Off the Streets of Muthap
Artist: Eazy E
Composer(s): Antoine Carraby, Eric Wright

Lyric:
Straight off tha streets of muthafuckin' Compton
It's the downest nigga I know
Eazy muthafuckin' me
Bout to kick your ass in ninety-three

I creep and I crawl and I creep and I crawl
And I creep and I crawl creep creep
I said I creep and I crawl and I creep and I crawl
And I creep and I crawl creep creep

I got my niggas from gravestreet watts
I got my niggas from the CPT
I got my niggas all across the motherfuckin' land
Thats down with the Eazy-E

Now, early in the mornin' I awake
Thinkin' about these dead fool's life that I had to take
Frontin' on a true name I peep game at point blank range
Fuck 'em
(Muthafuckin' right y'all )

Back to the set as I jet
Not givin' a fuck about the nigga that I went
Thats what he gotta shout for actin' like a trick
Now he's 6 feet and I'm deep in his bitch

Creepin' creepin' creepin' on the marks that be sleepin'
Catch you slippin' slap the clip in buck 'em every weekend
A scandalous lil' nigga with the heart to feel remorse
Dick the niggas corps leave it on his momma's porch
Don't give a fuck about shit that's why I mellow

Or maybe it's the fact that I'm kin to the devil
A psychopathic nigga thats always quick to fill a
Nigga for a [unverified] 'cause I'm a muthafuckin' killer
Thriller from Manilla though I'm shown as the average
Try to test your luck and get bucked by a muthafuckin' savage

I creep and I crawl and I creep and I crawl
And I creep and I crawl creep creep
I said I creep and I crawl and I creep and I crawl
And I creep and I crawl creep creep

I got my niggas from gravestreet watts
I got my niggas from the CPT
I got my niggas all across the muthafuckin' land
Thats down with the Eazy-E

Now , later on that night as I'm rollin'
Lookin' for a nigga I can gat and pack a hole in
Stoppin' at a light on the latenight
Fire up a Phillie Blunt to get my head right

See some niggas slippin' at a burger stand
And in my mind all I'm thinkin' is a murder plan
Creepin' through the drive through kinda slow
I got my hot beams on the back of the 4

Yo, smokin' on chronic with the rag down
Not knowin' I'm about to lay their ass down
Reach for them fools make my move
Leaned out my jeep and I creep kinda smooth

With the gat to the nigga's dome now he's sleeps
One shot to the top body flopped on the seat
Peep , I dumped on the lil' skinny passenger
A bitch is screamin' in a rage so I blasted her

Smashed and I got about 5 blocks
Before I got stopped by punk ass cops
(Shit , fuck 'em )
Fuck you, muthafucka
Ha, ha, ha

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4131abe94b35fb123ed51abc0115a947

Thought You Knew - Lyrics - Coolio

Title: Thought You Knew
Artist: Coolio
Composer(s): Artis Ivey, Brian Dobbs

Lyric:
Never gave a fuck and I still don't
So save your lectures, I'm a gangbang for the rest of my life
A young BG deranged in the brain
The youngest motherfucker on the chain gang

Yeah, I still slang my thangs like a G
Really can I ever make your ass rest in peace?
No need to waste my energy squabbin'
Quick to pull the trigger, put your ass in a coffin

Never been a baller but I trap many ballin'
Homies y'know I don't give a fuck, I was starvin'
You better hide your daughter cos I'm out to get laid with dick
And have her sprung on this black ass nigga

Straight up out the gutter
Have her stealin' from her daddy and her mother
Sellin' rocks to the scandalous ass clockers
Ready to meet my snaps, yeah I'm cool like that
And I never gave a fuck about a stupid ass hoodrat

Bitches ridin' on my bit
Niggas hit me up and shit
But I'm from the Eastside
Where the niggas do or die
Representin' like a dream
The circle's deep I thought you knew

As I crack dice from one hood to the next
Doin' credit card schemes and cashin' hot cheques
I got a 9 for any nigga that come runnin' up
Keepin' motherfuckers on the duck

You can give a this or that sling, the yea or the tracks
But when your chick starts choking ya, you gots ta break me off
I sweat ya like Keith until ya give me my ends
If a nickel bag is sold in the park I want in

In the middle of the night when the spot's not hot
You can find Billy Boy rollin' down your block
Hittin' switches 'cause your bitch is gettin paid, 'cause that's my way
And all the hoes still wanna fuck
(You know we do)

I bleed like the next man but when the gat is in my hand
You can bet my monkey ass is comin' out on top
L.A. hustlers can't live without money
So before I make sense I gots ta make a knot

'Cause I can't fuck without my hoes
And I can't hit no switch without the 6-4
Everybody wanna fuck a nigga like me
But I won't be gettin back in the CPT

Niggas tryin' to give me stuff
Billy Boy don't give a fuck
First I warn you with my rhyme
Then I'll fuck you with my 9

Don't give your please cos I don't bang
But I'm down to fully slang
40 Thevz end down your crew
The circle's deep I thought you knew

I fold a rapper like a dollar just to hear his punk ass holler
Walk into his hood and grab his homies by the collar
Stock 'em all up like a pack of punk bitches
Now I got his whole crew wearin' heels and doin' dishes

You don't wanna see me out the motherfuckin' front
Don't you take this shit for granted just cos niggas call me Cool
R E S P E C T C O O L I O G
M to the A, A to the D
A circle full of niggas that you don't wanna see

You ain't nuttin' but a pistol that's fuckin' with a missile
I chew your ass like gristle 'til the ref blows the whistle
Sing a song of six packs, a pocket full of snaps
Ain't no punks in my motherfuckin' pack
See I use to be broke now I blow indo smoke
First you diss my city then you choke

C O M P T O N
Punk motherfuckers get two to the chin
I don't give a fuck what'cha got or who you know
Step to the madness, your ass gotta go

Ain't a damn thing changed but only the year
East Coast, West Coast get this clear
You don't wanna see my crew
The circle's deep I thought you knew

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