Lyrics Wanted - CMW - Compton's Most Wanted

Wanted

Just like a prisoner, because I’m brown with some black skin
A fugitive, running cause I just won’t give in
And its hard when it’s black on black
Gotta blast another brother trying to scheme on my stack
For me to be a busta, oh no
Police is hunting a brother like an animal
So I play my cards right, watch my back
Because the enemy is scheming, trying to kick a rat pack
Straight up, a gangsta, ain’t got time for faking
Label me a pusher, dead presidents I’m making
A brother who’s young, got the neighbourhood sprung
Police riding my tip, if they catch me I’m hung
But no, I don’t sleep as they creep.
Take a peep out the scene
Cause they trying to stop the flow of my green
So I keep stepping, and bailing hard because a brother is up on it
Catch me if you can cause fool, Eiht is wanted
I lace up my kicks, because a brother’s on the run
Chase me down with a gun, because my lyrics weigh a ton
Now I’m sweating cause you’re sweating me big time
Hang me up by a rope for my murder rhyme
No shorts given, thats how I’m living in the 91
Slide my car in, and smoking with my Mike gun
Pop off 2 lyrics so they can slack up
If it gets too deep Mike’s got the back up
Packin' tools, droppin' fools, I’m from Compton
So that should be your first rule
Here comes the pick of the weak, so dont sneek
If you do, Eiht’ll take 2 to your cheek
So don’t get uptight if you a victim
Got a gang of gangsta rhymes so let me kick em
Geah, I can’t be stopped, cause I’m up on it
And a brother like Eiht’s still wanted
So now I break faster, not because I want to, cause I got ta
Now your homies after me because I grabbed my mike and shot a-
Nother sucker dead, lyrics straight to your head
Cannot bite, no.
The Compton cyco
Quick on the gank, so you might get shanked
And I dont need a gatt just to jack your bank
Another stick-up kid just got crazy
Try to double cross the Eiht you’ll be pushing up daisies
Or you can get the backwash
From the 40 thats poured on the ground, so I clown
So your mad, but your bad and you press your luck
But you still wanna nag, yeah you’ll get stuck
So who’s got the Compton funk?
And it’s illegal if you bump it too loud in your trunk
So now you know that Eiht’s your top rap dealer
But you a punk ass New Jack squeeler
Thats why I’m wanted
Tha odds against me.
So now its time to break
Seconds tick off the clock so I don’t fake
I gots to keep on steppin, dont run outta breath
Cause if I slow down punk it might spell death
I confuse the mark, throw him off the trail
This ain’t no picnic punk you picked hell
Better known as Rambro, not afraid
Mike T starts the gatt, Eihts a hand grenade
And who’s got the 411?
Just can’t do me punk your getting done
Eiht is the nigga eating them up
Yeah thats my cue so I start kicking but
And you don’t want to witness the Compton rage
Trapped just like a rat in a snake cage
Boy you diss the crew, geah you flaunt it
Now I hunt you down because your wanted