If Pirus and Crips all got along They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song Seem like the whole city go against me Every time I'm in the street I hear "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!"
Man down, where you from, nigga? Fuck who you know, where you from, my nigga? Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga? This m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga
Brace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane This is not a rap on how I'm slinging crack or move cocaine This is cul-de-sac and plenty Cognac and major pain Not the drill sergeant, but the stress that weighing on your brain It was me, L Boogs and Yan Yan, YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans It got ugly, waving your hand out the window, check yourself, uh
Warriors and Conans, hope euphoria can slow dance With society, the driver seat the first one to get killed Seen a light-skinned nigga with his brains blown out At the same burger stand where - hang out Now this is not a tape recorder saying that he did it But ever since that day, I was looking at him different
That was back when I was nine, Joey packed the .9 Pakistan on every porch is fine, we adapt to crime Pack a van with four guns at a time With the sliding door, fuck is up? Fuck you shooting for if you ain't walking up, you fucking punk? Picking up the fucking pump, picking off you suckers Suck a dick or die or sucker punch, a wall of bullets coming from
AK's, AR's, "Ayy y'all, duck" That's what momma said when we was eating the free lunch Aw man, goddamn, all hell broke loose You killed my cousin back in '94, fuck your truce Now crawl your head in that noose You wind up dead on the news Ain't no peace treaty, just pieces BG's up to pre-approve Bodies on top of bodies IVs on top of IVs Obviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys When you hop on that trolley, make sure your colors correct Make sure you're corporate, or they'll be calling your mother collect
They say the governor collect all of our taxes except When we in traffic and tragic happens, that shit ain't no threat You moving backwards if you suggest that you sleep with a TEC Go buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial, I guess, m.A.A.d city
Man down, where you from, nigga? Fuck who you know, where you from, my nigga? Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga? This m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga
If Pirus and Crips all got along They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song Seem like the whole city go against me Every time I'm in the street I hear "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk"
Wake your punk ass up It ain't nothin' but a Compton thang, G-yeah Real simple and plain Let me teach you some lessons about the street (Smoke somethin' nigga), hood (sup cuz?) It ain't nothin' but a Compton thang, G-yeah, how we do
Fresh outta school 'cause I was a high school grad Sleepin' in the living room in my momma's pad Reality struck, I seen the white car crash Hit the light pole, two niggas hopped out on foot and dashed My Pops said I needed a job, I thought I believed him Security guard for a month and ended up leaving In fact, I got fired 'cause I was inspired by all of my friends To stage a robbery the third Saturday I clocked in
Projects tore up, gang signs get thrown up Cocaine laced in marijuana And they wonder why I rarely smoke now Imagine if your first blunt had you foaming at the mouth I was straight tweaking, the next weekend, we broke even I made allegiance that made a promise to see you bleeding You know the reasons but still won't ever know my life Kendrick, a.k.a. Compton's Human Sacrifice
G-yeah, cocaine, weed Niggas been mixin' shit since the 80s, loc Sherm sticks, butt nakeds, dip, make a nigga flip Cluck heads all up and down the block and shit One time's crooked and shit, block a nigga in Alondra, Rosecrans, Bullis, it's Compton
I'm still in the hood, loc, G-yeah, that's cool (G-yeah) The hood took me under so I follow the rules But G-yeah, that's like me, I grew up in the hood where they bang And niggas that rep' colors is doing the same thing Pass it to the left so I can smoke on me A couple drive-by's in the hood lately (G-yeah) Couple of IVs with the fucking spray-can Shots in the crowd then everybody ran
Crew I'm finna slay, the street life I crave Shots hit the enemy, hearts turn brave Mount up, regulators in the whip Down the boulevard with the pistol grip (G-yeah) Trip, we in the hood still So loc, grab a strap 'cause G-yeah, it's so real (G-yeah) Deal with the outcome, a strap in the hand And a bird and ten grands where a motherfucker stand
If I told you I killed a nigga at sixteen Would you believe me? Or see me to be innocent Kendrick you seen in the street With a basketball and some Now and Laters to eat? If I mentioned all of my skeletons Would you jump in the seat? Would you say my intelligence now is great relief? And it's safe to say that our next generation maybe can sleep With dreams of being a lawyer or doctor Instead of boy with a chopper That hold the cul-de-sac hostage Kill 'em all if they gossip
The Children of the Corn, they vandalizing The option of living a lie, drown their body with toxins Constantly drinking and drive Hit the powder then watch this flame That arrive in his eye, listen coward, the concept is aim And they bang it and slide out that bitch with deposits A price on his head, the tithes probably go to the projects I live inside the belly of the rough Compton, U.S.A. made me an Angel on Angel Dust, what?
M.A.A.d city Compton
Nigga, pass Dot the bottle, damn You ain't the one that got fucked up What you holding it for? Niggas always acting unsensitive and shit Nigga, that ain't no word Nigga, shut up! Hey, Dot, you good, my nigga? Don't even trip, just lay back and drink that
