| I’m in the gangsta stroll, so you better run hide
|
| Fools on slide, so keep your kids inside
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| Explicit words in this rhyme I wrote
|
| Ain’t no jack move fool so please don’t
|
| Demonstrate your style is weak you can’t compete
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| And just like a girl, get freaked
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| It’s the big 91 and Eiht’s coming
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| Compton criminal fool so start running
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| And please stop biting my stuff
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| As the rhyme gets rough you done had enough
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| Of the Eiht, the gangsta mack, the pimp hustla
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| And pistol whip a weak busta
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| Suckers run up and get slapped
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| Damn, I thought you was smarter then that
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| Then to dis the brother who is Compton stepping
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| Microphone is kept as the murder weapon
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| I’m straight Checkn 'Em
|
| (scratching: Check this out… X4)
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| No shorts are taken, I give it to you long and slow
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| Hard fools, drop your gaurd
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| No your not prepared, your scared, no time to sleep
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| Can’t bargain with your rap, cause its cheap
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| And if I have to show, like Rambro
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| And snap a neck with some Compton effect
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| And get buck wild sucker
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| And serve em all like cluckers
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| You just can’t hang with your weak style
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| You slip right off a the pile
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| To me your just another pretender
|
| So wave the white flag, boy surrender
|
| And if you a female species
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| Tryin to gank then girl you’ll get these. |
| Famous vapours, walk in
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| Papers, see you later
|
| You little crooked alligator
|
| You gets no juice
|
| And if you scheme on my team then I’ll cut you loose
|
| You can’t handle the format
|
| Punk, I’ll use you as a doormat
|
| I’m straight checkn em
|
| (scratching)
|
| I puts my foot down, so all the suckers get clowned
|
| As the MC Eiht steps from the underground
|
| A villain from the city under seige
|
| Where the brothers jack, girlies skeeze
|
| I’m breaking them off proper
|
| And taking no B.S. |
| from a copper
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| Fools on my tip keep sweating me
|
| And trying to gank my Compton melody
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| You can’t withstand the powerful blow
|
| From a brother with a def wish
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| Others I smother and change their description
|
| Wait a minute did I mention
|
| That I flow punk fools with one swing
|
| Bow down to the Compton king-
|
| Pin, the record spins and that spells the end
|
| For you my friend
|
| I’m straight Checkn em
|
| (scratching)
|
| Lets get our scraps on boy
|
| And the Eiht’ll destroy
|
| And play you just like a toy
|
| Fools try and they can’t hang cause they raps just simp
|
| I thought so wimp
|
| I’m blasting, peeling caps, making snaps
|
| For the violence in my raps
|
| Gotta pack tools cause fools don’t wanna back on my tip
|
| Geah, but thats cool
|
| I give em a count backwards 10 to 1
|
| Then they tale is done
|
| I give up no slack
|
| Because a sucker tried to punk my style and call it wack
|
| Now I’m back to attack
|
| And give em hype, just like they feinding for crack
|
| So come on, come on, cause Eiht and Mike’ll keep deckn' em
|
| Geah fool, straight checkn em
|
| (scratching) |