| Six pounds of chronic on my grandma coffee table
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| That’s how you remember it, that’s how I remember it
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| Yeah, dip into the liquor store, .9 in my khaki’s
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| Crips tryna get at me, my red Impala bumping like acne
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| My city a trap me
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| Been shot, robbed, stabbed, chased home, socked out
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| Jabbed by esse’s, cops, degenerate niggas with rags
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| Disintegrate niggas went into me, dome shots like Kennedy
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| Slugs trippin' with Henessey, got murderous tendencies
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| And if you don’t know where the fuck they got me from
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| Martin Scorsese when I pull out my gun
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| Scarface, car chase, tell me how your blood taste
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| Ask your baby mama, she’ll tell you how a blood taste
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| Basket case, still I’m back with Dre, shit I never left
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| Run up in Beats, «Bitch pass the safe! |
| Compton»
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| Produced by a billionaire in this motherfucker
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| Still smoking, Dre we need a ceiling in this motherfucker
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| Compton!
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| They’re killing in this motherfucker
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| They’re drilling in this motherfucker
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| Lock the door, they’re stealing in this motherfucker
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| No chains, no reins, this my home
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| Nigga this hub city, no fly zone
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| Niggas pull out burners, start breaking like turbo on ozone
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| Crack fiends on the back streets
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| Where the tracks lean and the needles lay
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| And switchblades, if you bitch made
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| Put chili all on your Frito Lay’s
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| Where we dream of Montego Bay
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| But all we got is the swap meet
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| Where the cops meet, go bang bang
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| Leaves blood stains on the concrete
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| And I’m the only nigga bumping Mobb Deep
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| Cause I mob deep down that side street
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| I’m a west side rider, gats on collars
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| Don’t hate me, better get your dollars
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| I be on Rosecrans with a Glock in both hands
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| Leaning on that bro hand
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| Flame dump like a co-tail with my name on it
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| Another day in Compton, the thrill is high
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| Know somebody’s watching, but I don’t know why
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| Feel the fire burning, it touches the sky
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| Feeling coming at you, I won’t die tonight
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| So I get by, I get by
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| I get by, I get, I get by
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| Cause it’s just another day in Compton |