oooh baby, yeah

ooooh baby, it's goin' down

oooooh baby, puff your blunts

fuck your bitch, drink your drank, I'm ready

oooooh baby, oooooh baby, oooooh baby





we was some young niggaz seen the ballers do it

I said fuck that, it's time for 'Ren to do it

so me and my nigga Chip Dirty

stayed out for everynight till like two: thirty

servin clocks, mothafuckin' young niggas

roll in them trucks with laces

bitches with the fine-Ass-Faces

I said I gotta be down, a teenage black mothafucker from the Compton

got thirty bucks and I double it up

see them cluckheads I'm yellin' what the fuck up

we got planty chips, get his bitch a fuckin' twenty

we're gettin' rich better tell this bitch

we fucked the police

pioneers hustling, pay bang crease

peace to my nigga Train, Rest In Peace

you nigga outdoin' it big, wish you was here

puffin' on this blunt nigga sippin' some Beer

still Compton nigga, you was my dogg we went to school together

then we two and forever

this little young niggaz don't know, this shit is personal

loosin' nigga that you know, you about to go through it

this shit I have you gone, then pray to your God

I have your ass in the corner cursin' your Gat

keep your head up, homey just remember the Villain

smoke weed, get your money nigga, fuck and be chillin...





Old times, there was no better day

just keepin' it real

Old times, there was no better way

that's just how I feel





you know how we do it

never gangsters around here

been bangin' that Compton shit for twenty years "uhh"

I had niggaz died, some with twenty five

some smoke dive in the hood tryin' to survive

in the ghetto

but shit be hard for the overage "yeah"

niggaz gotta have a job and a sack to have it

take any chance, cause you only'll get one

so you make what you can

you suppose to be a man and run shit

shut niggaz down when they turn bitch, or turn snitch

bury mothafuckers quick, this is the life I live

the rider nigga chose

forgive for my sin in this world so cold

so step the fuck back while I lay this fat track

I'm origin-al like that DJ Scratch

I blast the weak up off the Bout "Uhh"

Bigg Rocc, John Doe, nigga like that, Old Times...









Lodi dodi, we like to party

We don't cause trouble, we don't bother nobody

it's, just John Doe up on the Mic

And when we rock up on the Mic too late it's a gun fight

now you can call it ignite

but we continue, to find somethin' else to get into

Like some pussy, or infact "a bum rush"

A bum rush, but we call that rat pack

Gangster Gangster that's what we yellin'

how we made it new Compton no tellin'

sold crack out my house, yeah puffs was on it "uha"

Rest In Peace to my mamms, kept the nigga up on it

she know what I was doin, still had my back

she even lied on standin to keep a nigga in jack

you point a finger at me, you need to check yourself "uha"

we had nothin' in the fridge, fool I had to live...