| Why, oh why must you swoop through the hood like everybody from the hood?
|
| Is up to no good
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| You think all the girls around here are trickin'
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| Up there lookin' like Superchicken
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| At night I see your light through my bedroom window
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| But I ain’t got shit but the pad and pencil
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| I can’t wait till I hear you say
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| «I'm going down, mayday, mayday.» |
| I’m gonna clown
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| Cause everytime that the pigs have got me
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| Y’all rub it in with the flying Nazi
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| Military force, but we don’t want ya
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| Standin' on my roof with the rocket launcher
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| «So fly like an eagle.»
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| But don’t follow us wherever we go
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| The shit that I’m saying, make sure it’s heard
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| Motherfuck you and your punk-ass ghetto bird
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| «Run, run, run, from the ghetto bird»
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| «Run, run, run, from the ghetto bird»
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| Now, my homey’s here to lick on a trick for a Rolex
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| And let me try the fo' next
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| Now the fo' I was driving was hotter than july
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| Looked up and didn’t see a ribbon in the sky
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| Saw a chopper with numbers on the bottom
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| «Calling all cars, I think we’ve got em.»
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| I hit the gas and I mashed past Inglewood
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| I think I drove through every single hood
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| South Central, Compton and Watts
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| Long Beach, bust a U, here come the cops
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| Wish I had a genie with about three wishes
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| Metal flake green on D’s I look suspicious
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| You know that I’m running
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| Shit, I hear it humming
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| Fuck, I see it coming
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| Is it a bird? |
| Yup
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| Is it a plane? |
| No
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| I hit me a right on El Segundo
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| Wanted to holla, had to ditch the Impala
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| Let’s see if they would folla
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| Me, hit a fence, hit a fence, and another
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| Met me a baby pitbull and his mother
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| Ran up in some peoples house and looked out of the window
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| I wish it was my kinfolk
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| Had to pull a strap on a fool named Louis the Third
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| 'Cause I’m getting chased by the ghetto bird
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| «Just put his hat, ehrrr, he combed his hair and then put his hat back
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| On. |
| Errr, he’s acting nonchalant up there in that cockpit, going 115
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| Miles an hour, with the police chasing him. |
| Ehm, they’re not gonna be
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| Real happy when they catch up with him, no matter what, the eh
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| Ehrr, they hate, they hate a bigmouth even worse.»
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| Officer Bird’s on his way, and I don’t wanna see him
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| Could you please give me the keys to the B.M.
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| See, I didn’t want to gank you
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| But don’t make me bank you, thank you
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| Tried to get to the hood, and you might guess
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| That a fool like me done shot Cyrus
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| Incognito, Ghetto Eagle
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| Saying, «Fuck, where did he go?»
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| I bust me a left on Ruthelen. |
| Park
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| The 735 and I’m bailin
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| Went to my homegirl’s house and got a hug man
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| She helped me run like Harriet Tubman
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| Looked out the window by the black bed
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| I saw the pigs and the fo' on a flatbed
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| Then the light from the bird hit me in the face
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| I closed the blinds cause I didn’t wanna catch a case
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| All that night, I heard the bird circle
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| While I was eating fish and watching Urkel
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| She said I could sleep on the couch
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| By two A.M. |
| I was digging her out
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| Fuck the ghetto bird
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| «Which way is he going now?»
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| «Ok, now. |
| now he’s.he's actually southbound. |
| on a service street
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| And, uh… Gee whiz, uh, I’m gonna get my maps out here and figure
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| Out which service street he suddelny turned off on. |
| Uh, the sherriffs
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| Are.are…well I know that… Sherriffs ground units got thrown off»
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| Motherfuck you and your punk-ass ghetto bird |