| Geah! |
| Geah!
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| Fresh out the hood, We made it
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| This gangsta shit, We paid it
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| G-g-g-g-geah, Cmon
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| I’mma keep yellin compton for life
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| Although the ghetto bring a motherfucker stress to strife
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| At night, hear the gunshots, somebody dyin
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| Murder on the front line, mama be cryin
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| It’s her firstborn, all the lines been torn
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| How long will mama only son should mourn?
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| To the streets is my motherfuckin lord to sworn
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| Out the do' when I hear my fuckin o.g.'s horn
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| To the homie 6 feet, a little liquor we pourin
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| Down the ave statin where the girls be whorin
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| One times is hot on the trail
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| Destined to stack us in the county jail
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| Police ain’t a friend to me, pop at the enemy
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| Fire out the hole life smoke at the chimney
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| There’s so many young souls lost
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| The hood life you gon pay at a high cost
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| Fresh out the hood, We made it
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| These motherfuckin dues, Homeboy we paid it
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| This gangsta shit, We made it
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| These motherfuckin dues, Homeboy we paid it
|
| Fresh out the hood, we made it
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| These motherfuckin dues, Homeboy we paid it
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| Homeboy, We made it, This motherfuckin gangsta
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| I remember when it all started, Runnin around actin retarded
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| Jumpin out on anybody livin life cold hearted
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| I’ll hold him while you sock 'em up
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| Go in his pockets cause you know we don’t give a fuck
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| Nigga what? |
| This Compton, breaded and branded, sets landed
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| But fools be softies and I can’t understand it
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| We went from small change to big change
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| Flipped up the game and remain the same
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| Blow weed, get dope, and chase all the hoes
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| Fresh white tee, slammin 6 tre dough
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| And stay ready to kick up dust
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| Cause it’s a rumor in the city they gon spit at us
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| So they had to be ready for niggas to rock steady
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| Can’t get caught without it, So don’t sweat me
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| But these fools is fake and gold plated
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| Livin outdated while I’m laughin, Screamin out we made it
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| I’m out the ragtop 6 tre, dub’s in the sky
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| Blunt gettin me high, it’s do or die
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| Reminiscing on how we used to laugh and joke
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| Goin half on the o.e. |
| lookin for smoke
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| I was the getaway driver, you rolled shotgun
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| Motherfuckers surrounded the car, you shot one
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| In broad day light, whenever we took flight
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| I’mma revenge the death boy with all my might
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| Hand me a light so I can spark up the blunt
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| Smoke until my finger tips then go on a hunt
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| Best not stunt, I’mma stay low key
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| Creep up when you comin out slowly
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| Wit the rag round my face, you don’t know me
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| I’m a neighborhood menace to my enemy
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| Geah, it’s just the way we are
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| If you wit your homies, still shoot up the car |