| Yo, this is the number one bitch
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| Where y’all know, comin' straight from the center of Compton
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| Radio Station B.G. |
| K. O
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| 2456 on your dial
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| Where we play all the dope shit
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| Yo, this is Eazy-muthaphukkin-E
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| And you’re listenin' to radio station B.G. |
| K. O
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| Rollin' in my hood, twistin' on them D’s
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| Age 19 and I’m pushin' straight keys
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| Me and my B.G.'s, baby gangstas
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| Puttin' it down right because we don’t allow pranksters
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| Girls come through, lookin' by and all fine
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| But I know in their mind, all they see is dollar signs
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| So back off, yo, I might met to a ho
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| Wait 'til nightfall and take her ass to the mo-mo
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| Blaze up some indo, sip a little 8 Ball
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| 5 minutes later, I’m all up in them drizzos
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| Knockin' down them Wizzos, with my bulldozer
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| When I’m ready to switch I’ll tell the girl to bend over
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| Do a little smackin', trippin' and then I’m through
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| Tell her yeah give me a call sometimes tomorrow around 2
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| It’s now 2 o’clock and she hit me on the hip
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| But I can’t call her back cause I’m tryin' to stack my grip
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| The trick might trip the next time that she see me |
| Messin' around to get her ass slapped by the B. G
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| I’m not a women beater but still I ain’t givin'
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| Up a damn thing, yeah trick, that’s how I’m livin
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| K.O. |
| lettin' you know
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| That you can’t live with this
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| That’s how livin in 9−4
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| Yeah, let it flow
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| K.O. |
| lettin' you know
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| That you can’t live with this
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| That’s how livin' in 9−4
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| Ooooohhh yeaahh
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| Before the brother was rappin', the brother was straight robbin'
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| Gafflin' up my mailbox like a part time jobbin'
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| I did it cause that’s all I knew
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| I dropped out the school in the 8th grade
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| Doin drive-bys with the 12 gauge
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| Livin' foul as a child back in the days
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| Until I find out, that the crime does not pay
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| At age 13 I went to juvenile hog
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| And on the inside they treat the brother like a dog
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| So being locked down really ain’t the lick
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| They get to tell the brother once you sleep don’t sniff
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| But forget that, I’d rather be free out in the streets
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| Gettin lay everyday and don’t have to beat my niece
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| Be gatherin' to sneak with E, when and where I wanna
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| Hangin' with the homies drinkin' 40's on the corner |
| Now I’m on wax, kickin' straight gangsterism
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| Lettin' fools know in '94
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| Cause yo, that’s how I’m livin'
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| Now I see the small delight in just bangin'
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| Goin' state to state on the plane entertainin'
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| The world, rockin' shows, knockin' hoes, everywhere I go
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| Everybody knows K. O
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| And I said, it feels good to make it out the hood
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| And be some body like I had always said I would
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| But though I’m still starvin', no more drive-byin'
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| The streets get worse but still the brother keeps tryin'
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| To be the best I can, with no time to waste
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| And since I went straight, I keep the smile on my mama’s face
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| Now I’m a father, I strap a little harder
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| June 19th of 93 out comes my daughter
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| Sometimes I get a blur and think about doin' dirt
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| But I checked myself, and put my focus in her
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| That’s how I’m livin'
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| … where ever the fuckers …
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| … hipped out and stepped forward …
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| (*static*)
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| … how I’m living.
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| … ay, man …
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| … just don’t (*static*) we’re entertained …
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| … no shit, man … |