Kill him where he stand and stand over him Shake his hand, then jump back in that minivan Double back to his block and blam I ain't backin' down for nothin' I'ma back 'em down like Shaq With this black 2-2-3 in my hand Better pray that this chopper jam like a radio single, man Police radio signals sayin' that a 187 land on yo' corner Coroners comfort yo' momma "Momma, he's dead," the next mornin'
I toasted up with my homies We drink and smoke marijuana Want us to change our ways? Uh-huh You see this game we play come from Uncles that raised me in Compton Ask me what I have accomplished I don't know, I don't have conscience
I just load up and start dumpin' on enemies I'm headhuntin', no sympathy Ain't no love when you in these streets Just get somethin', protect yo' neck 'Cause they comin' for sets, respect Split your onion, then chop yo' deck Your head tumblin' like gymnastics (ooh...) 'Cause ignorance is bliss
Now everybody put yo' hands up high If you don't give a fuck, put yo' hands up high This the hardest shit you've heard from L.A. this far And I'm this far from a discharge, but never will I diss y'all We all tryna ball, and when I got the rock, I'll dish off Until the day I pistol-whip you posers 'til y'all pissed off Then peel off in a hoopty Come back and make these niggas wanna shoot me
And they bitches wanna salute me or seduce me Indubitably, I'm too street, indubitably, I'ma do me Better than yo' bitch would, 'cause you niggas too weak But just give me two weeks and I'm good I'll make an album that'll put a smile on Malcolm Make Martin Luther tell God I'm the future for Heaven's talent No tarot card readin', I'm foreseein' you niggas vanish Not only from the rap game, I'm includin' the planet Cats so watered-down, clowns can sink Titanic Tie titanium around they neck and watch 'em panic
Gimme respect, dammit, or get damaged Die young, corpse identified by your parents Apparently, you're a parrot, mockin' me and my blueprint But I won't share it, just make you cop it, then call you a sheriff Stop it, I'm hearin' the comments The critics are callin' me conscious But truthfully, every shooter be callin' me Compton So truthfully, only callin' me Kweli and Common? Proves, that ignorance is bliss
Now everybody put yo' hands up high If you don't give a fuck, put yo' hands up high And this still the hardest shit you've heard from L.A. this far And I'm this far, from a discharge, but never will I diss y'all This my world, I grab the universe then play kickball And they wonder why these California earthquakes hittin' so hard
I'm So-Cal, you so-called rappers need to go call Ghostbusters 'Cause you busters are Casper when I go off I show up to show out and show off You a hundred percent behind me And if you are, then wreck yo' car And walk up to my crime scene
I remember bein' 17, wishin' someone would sign me Now the only way these labels get me back is when they rewind me Backin' down bargains, backin' down bitches We gon' flip her Once she off that blue dolphin, you gon' tip her 'Cause ignorance is bliss
And Willie B, I'm a fool on yo' beats I bleed out the speaker as the speaker that spoke when they didn't speak