[00:03.09]Uh-huh, yeah
[00:05.20]You know what it is
[00:08.10]It's that Compton sh!t n!gga
[00:10.46]Get back
[00:14.25]If I gotta ride
[00:17.08]Then you's gonna die
[00:24.04]I hope n!ggas ain't really tryin' to break my bones
[00:26.77]Cause if you are make sure you know a nickname you want for that tombstone
[00:30.37]Play hard as a rock bullets can break stones
[00:32.96]Break bad boys down like Jenny did Sean Combs
[00:36.47]I'm hot as an oven you just a pressin' comb
[00:39.73]I'm not impressed homes you should've stayed home
[00:42.31]And prayed that rooftop blocked you from gettin' shitted on
[00:44.61]I gives a **** if A&R's don't pick up the phone
[00:47.90]I swear there's no one like me but if there is then I gotta long lost twin or they made me a clone
[00:53.33]I don't care about friends I was made to be on my own
[00:55.94]I came in this world by myself and I'm leavin' alone
[00:59.22]Hopefully with a crib that I can call my own
[01:01.93]With a backyard the size of the ****in' Georgia Dome
[01:04.70]Pop you popped shit and I might pop your dome
[01:07.59]Give your homies a reason to make a memory song
[01:10.99]Niggas swear that they love when the beef is on
[01:13.44]Knowin' that plummet time the only time he'll roam
[01:16.58]You better hold your breath I give you workin' death
[01:19.72]And recommend the gun be your chaperone
[01:22.42]I know young n!ggas that look up to Al Capone
[01:25.07]And they look 17 but I swear that their mind is grown, sh!t
[01:28.72]I'm so grown and the reason why I write this way
[01:31.39]Pac and Big be ghostwritin' my songs
[01:34.25]You can play the boss but if you get shot
[01:36.62]From bein on top then homie that's your loss
[01:39.93]I'm nice wit it
[01:41.45]I'll pop your man then leave some money on him so it can pay for his funeral costs, get it?
[01:45.87]The n!ggas tryin' to get money like Fort Knox
[01:48.16]Either from the rap shit or back down to the cut rock
[01:51.37]And you can play a baller but deep inside you know you just an actor
[01:54.79]Yeah, somethin' like Rick Fox
[01:57.19]You ain't a thug homie you just a fox
[01:59.89]In the midst of werewolves somewhere in the boondocks
[02:02.72]And I'm really from the streets
[02:04.96]So if I ask for beef homeboy don't bring me no pork chop
[02:08.60]I turn your skin to pork homie with one chop
[02:11.76]With a rusty switchblade that's dirty like bum socks, heh
[02:14.22]They say the flow is crack
[02:16.34]So wherever I rap best believe you can call it a dope spot, b***h
[02:21.01]I swear if I gotta ride (You know what it's)
[02:24.24]Then you's gonna die

Uh-huh, yeah
You know what it is
It's that Compton sh!t n!gga
Get back
If I gotta ride
Then you's gonna die
I hope n!ggas ain't really tryin' to break my bones
Cause if you are make sure you know a nickname you want for that tombstone
Play hard as a rock bullets can break stones
Break bad boys down like Jenny did Sean Combs
I'm hot as an oven you just a pressin' comb
I'm not impressed homes you should've stayed home
And prayed that rooftop blocked you from gettin' shitted on
I gives a **** if A&R's don't pick up the phone
I swear there's no one like me but if there is then I gotta long lost twin or they made me a clone
I don't care about friends I was made to be on my own
I came in this world by myself and I'm leavin' alone
Hopefully with a crib that I can call my own
With a backyard the size of the ****in' Georgia Dome
Pop you popped shit and I might pop your dome
Give your homies a reason to make a memory song
Niggas swear that they love when the beef is on
Knowin' that plummet time the only time he'll roam
You better hold your breath I give you workin' death
And recommend the gun be your chaperone
I know young n!ggas that look up to Al Capone
And they look 17 but I swear that their mind is grown, sh!t
I'm so grown and the reason why I write this way
Pac and Big be ghostwritin' my songs
You can play the boss but if you get shot
From bein on top then homie that's your loss
I'm nice wit it
I'll pop your man then leave some money on him so it can pay for his funeral costs, get it?
The n!ggas tryin' to get money like Fort Knox
Either from the rap shit or back down to the cut rock
And you can play a baller but deep inside you know you just an actor
Yeah, somethin' like Rick Fox
You ain't a thug homie you just a fox
In the midst of werewolves somewhere in the boondocks
And I'm really from the streets
So if I ask for beef homeboy don't bring me no pork chop
I turn your skin to pork homie with one chop
With a rusty switchblade that's dirty like bum socks, heh
They say the flow is crack
So wherever I rap best believe you can call it a dope spot, b***h
I swear if I gotta ride (You know what it's)
Then you's gonna die