(Chorus: Scratched by DJ Unknown)

Tired of the mother fucking jackin

Boys that be jackin

Tired of the motherfucking jackin

Police, wanna front; wanna jack



On a day at the spot where the homies be chillin

Gossiping about the latest Compton killin

Brothers is deep, and no time to sleep

The Boys on the tip, and they trying to creep

Had a G-ride, so I suggest that we punch it

Grover was driving, and doing about a hundred

Hit a corner on the plata.  Checked the spot

Seen the P.D. lights.  Down the spot was hot

Ed Dog was cuffin'.  Threw in the back

Chiste and Lil' Rock jacked for selling that crack

E, man, hit the fence.  Yelled out, "See you later!"

Shark then pulled out the big blue blazer

Dookie and Boo didn't know what to do

Jumped in the car with D.T, bumpin' CMW

Hit a U around the corner.  Did it work?  I wonder

C.P.D. on my ass, and they burnin' rubber

 Didn't want to be like Brother and Fly: locked up

So I downed the Bird that was still in my cup

Parked the G-ride, and I started to bail

'Cause my trip was to home, not the County Jail

Police swooped.  By the time the Boys was near me

Go Go fled 'cause the homie was kind of leary

I wasn't sweating shit, 'cause they had nothing on me

Bam looked bag.  They were named.  Now his Pony

They peeped out the pager.  Said, "How much did it cost?

By the way MC Eiht, where's the dope you toss?"

(Eight): "Me sell dope?  Um sir.  I'm a rap singer

Won't go down like the Compton gang banger."

They ran a warrant check.  I must have had good luck

But the homie who ran.  Mmmm

One Time gaffled him up



(Chorus 3x: Scratched by DJ Unknown)

Get your ass in the car.

Ho hold it now.

Keep still boy.  No need for static.



Get your ass in the car.

You're coming with us!



(Verse 2):

Had a show to do on a Thursday night

Me, Chill, Slip, and Tom rolling in Big White

Loaded as fuck, bumping "The Cactus."

I hope the Stoney Boys don't try to jack us

Gas tank was loaded, and so was the E

Kind of buzzed of the sack of the good E.T.

Chill was bustin' raps about the good ol' days

Switching to another form about how he get paid

Just then the Boys came behind the truck

Tom looked out and said, "What the fuck?!?!"

A motor cycle cop riding hard on the tip

Had to clown his ass once.  N' said, "This ain't no C.H.I.P.S!"

Homie had a warrant for a D.U.I.

And in my pocket was a fat sack of Chocolate Thai

Damn! (damn)

Now it's time to get nervous

Starey Clown  caught back em

And they was fixing to serve us

Dumb Dumb walked up and started asking for names

They he peeped me out and asked what's the gang I claim

The fact that I'm black is the reason you jack me

I've got to gang bang 'cause of the hat and khaki's

If I was in the hood, the dummy wouldn't have found me

He said, "Shut the fuck up 'fore you're headed for the County!"

He was already late.  The fools had they nerves

To have us sitting contest on the edge of the curb

Twas showt, shorter that showt.  What can I say?

"Keep on talking.  Go ahead.  Make my day

He started to acting tough n' Chill thought he was bluffin

But in a second or two, the Boys started the cuffin

Bud in our pockets.  Brew in our cups

No time for explanations.  One Time gaffled us up



(Chorus 3x: Scratched by DJ Unknown)

Get your ass in the car.

Ho hold it now.

For when?  For what?

I ain't guilty!



Get your ass in the car.

You're coming with us!