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[Chorus: Scratched by DJ Unknown]
Tired of the mother fucking jackin Boys that be jackin Tired of the motherfucking jackin Police, wanna front; wanna jack On a day at the spot where the homies be chillin Gossiping about the latest Compton killin Brothers is deep, and no time to sleep The Boys on the tip, and they trying to creep Had a G-ride, so I suggest that we punch it Grover was driving, and doing about a hundred Hit a corner on the plata. Checked the spot Seen the P.D. lights. Down the spot was hot Ed Dog was cuffin'. Threw in the back Chiste and Lil' Rock jacked for selling that crack E, man, hit the fence. Yelled out, "See you later!" Shark then pulled out the big blue blazer Dookie and Boo didn't know what to do Jumped in the car with D.T, bumpin' CMW Hit a U around the corner. Did it work? I wonder C.P.D. on my ass, and they burnin' rubber Didn't want to be like Brother and Fly: locked up So I downed the Bird that was still in my cup Parked the G-ride, and I started to bail 'Cause my trip was to home, not the County Jail Police swooped. By the time the Boys was near me Go Go fled 'cause the homie was kind of leary I wasn't sweating shit, 'cause they had nothing on me Bam looked bag. They were named. Now his Pony They peeped out the pager. Said, "How much did it cost? By the way MC Eiht, where's the dope you toss?" (Eight): "Me sell dope? Um sir. I'm a rap singer Won't go down like the Compton gang banger." They ran a warrant check. I must have had good luck But the homie who ran. Mmmm One Time gaffled him up [Chorus x3: Scratched by DJ Unknown] Get your ass in the car. Ho hold it now. Keep still boy. No need for static. Get your ass in the car. You're coming with us! [Verse 2:] Had a show to do on a Thursday night Me, Chill, Slip, and Tom rolling in Big White Loaded as fuck, bumping "The Cactus." I hope the Stoney Boys don't try to jack us Gas tank was loaded, and so was the E Kind of buzzed of the sack of the good E.T. Chill was bustin' raps about the good ol' days Switching to another form about how he get paid Just then the Boys came behind the truck Tom looked out and said, "What the fuck?!?!" A motor cycle cop riding hard on the tip Had to clown his ass once. N' said, "This ain't no C.H.I.P.S!" Homie had a warrant for a D.U.I. And in my pocket was a fat sack of Chocolate Thai Damn! (damn) Now it's time to get nervous Starey Clown caught back em And they was fixing to serve us Dumb Dumb walked up and started asking for names They he peeped me out and asked what's the gang I claim The fact that I'm black is the reason you jack me I've got to gang bang 'cause of the hat and khaki's If I was in the hood, the dummy wouldn't have found me He said, "Shut the fuck up 'fore you're headed for the County!" He was already late. The fools had they nerves To have us sitting contest on the edge of the curb Twas showt, shorter that showt. What can I say? "Keep on talking. Go ahead. Make my day He started to acting tough n' Chill thought he was bluffin But in a second or two, the Boys started the cuffin Bud in our pockets. Brew in our cups No time for explanations. One Time gaffled us up [Chorus x3: Scratched by DJ Unknown] Get your ass in the car. Ho hold it now. For when? For what? I ain't guilty! Get your ass in the car. You're coming with us |
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(Intro: sample from Audio Two's Top Billin'):
(You was jealous, it's all your fault) (What's up, punk?) (You was jealous, it's all your fault) (Pretty soon it's a homie you're grievin') (You was jealous, it's all your fault) (Got beef? What a pity) (You was jealous, it's all your fault) (Verse 1: MC Eiht ) Back for the payback, black, you came up shorter Geah, your ass is out, Eiht wrote a- Nother funky rap about your jealous conflict How you diss C.M.W, boy, you ain't said shit Your senses should tell ya: kick it, don't be a hero Equipped to whip is Eiht, unlike a zero I gotta hitcha, or get witcha Sit down, clown, I commence to paint a picture Hmmm, it's kinda funny, but yet somewhat amazing Take you serious? I think about it while I'm blazing Only then will my reaction show How I chill and let my tempo flow Too sorry is the name for your rap No competition, dissin', boy, you need to be slapped Eiht ain't no punk, so learn it quick Oh yes, p.s., C.M.W., and you can get my duck sick You can get the duck sick You can get my duck sick You can get the duck sick (Verse 2: Tha Chill ) I don't believe it, how the hell'd you get on wax? Makin demos on your tape deck tracks You did a show, and I heard it was wack You tossed our records, think I tossed right back You got the nerve, tryin to go down like a trooper In better words, you go down like King Cooper So stop your little dissing, saying that I can't handle I put your lights out, you have to rap by a candle Go head up punk, or sell out, I know you must've Heard the word, new jack, I'm not a buster Always down to bust a record, a party, know what I mean? But unlike yourself, sucker, I do it for cream So period, end of story, don't even bore Me, Tha Chill MC, claim to gory So that's it, the Eiht and Chill is the shit (Chill) Word, and you can get the duck sick You can get the duck sick Yo, you can get my - duck sick You can get the duck sick Yeah - get the duck sick You can get the duck sick Get the duck sick {Word up} You can get the duck sick (Verse 3: MC Eiht ) Wait a minute, hold up, punk, I know you're kiddin' Sayin E can't hang, you're bullshittin' I'm not a rookie, meaning a beginner If fakin' was a sin, you'd be a sinner Load up my mic and gat, start gunnin' Fresh off the Compton streets, so start runnin' You come across like a two-bit sucker Tryin' to compare with a hard motherfucka Punk, they call me Eiht, so give me respect I heard you did a show on your Mom's tape deck Fool, you fucked up smooth tryin' to diss A victim of a violent crime on the list So wake up and smell the bud', you little pupils Tryin to go head up, punk, you got no scruples Conflict you pick, you're sick You can't fade us, but yo, you can get the E's duck sick You can get the duck sick Yeah, you can get the E's duck sick You can get the duck sick School 'em (Verse 4: Tha Chill ) Now, who got you hip to be a rapper? You sorry jack-ass (You punk whipper snapper) Just take a step back, and boy, start peepin' On Eiht and Chill (Geah, ain't no sleepin') Quiet as it's kept, the news'll spread like AIDS Hip-Hop, C.M.W. gets paid Always down to dunk the funk Or clownin' down a weak-ass punk The beef you got, to Chill, don't mean shit Just a test I have to pass to show I'm on hit And Tha Chill's on hit, legit With the E I don't quit I grab a chair and a whip Like a lion, suckers I'm tamin' Peel a cap and snap on the mic, because I'm gamin' So watch me rip, 'cause you suckers is on a ego tip Stupid suckers, yo you can get Chill's duck sick You can get the duck sick What you say, E? Get the duck sick Get the duck sick Yo, who want the duck sick now? My man Unknown want the duck sick, E My man DJ Slip want the duck sick Word 'em up, Mike we be boomin' on the boards want the duck sick My Deejays Ant C and Mike T want the duck sick You guys are sick |
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Word
Bet This beat is like funky Youknowmsayin? Who put this beat together, man? Yo, that's the DJ Unknown What, Unknown? Niggas didn't think he was capable of somethin They don't we got somethin for it Yeah, man, I wrote some funky lyrics to this Alright, let's get busy... ( VERSE 1: MC Eiht ) It was a Friday, and Eiht was chillin like a criminal Didn't know the time, so I peeped out the digital Jumped in the hooptie, turned on the ignition Had the slightest worth of gold, but still was on a mission Down Alondra, rollin kinda tough Twisted up the chocolate thai, and I started to puff Aroma smells better than a rose Needed a shot of the bird, but the sto' was closed Swooped to my girl house to see what was poppin To let me know if the panties was droppin Baby wanted snaps, twenties by the dozen I guess the tramp thought that the E was buzzin I couldn't fade it, why the hell should I jib? Got the 20 sack of thai, and I'm here for the crib I can't go out like that, that ain't my type I hooked her up on my late night hype Geah Word Hey man, I don't know what's up with baby, man This broad is like real trippin Hey yo, want me to run somethin, homeboy? Man, I guess, man Baby thinkin she gon' gank Ain't no sleepin Run it down ( VERSE 2: Tha Chill ) I was coolin to let you know Tha Chill cools out Explanation, Chill'll tell you what it's about At the pad, on the way to E's to get got And I'm thinkin of a sorry clown we should jack 10:30 is the time I start bailin "Chill from C.M.W.", the girlies yellin Pay no attention, all they wanna do is bone ya Stepped back off the curb, came E around the corner Music was thumpin, heads started bobbin Swoopin through Compton like Batman and Robin E is kinda late, what's the plan for the evening? (Let's roll till we find a pack of girls that's skeezin) Skeezin? I play the game like a sport Yo E, roll out, let me hit the Newport Boys from Compton (Geah, right) And we hooked you up on that late night hype Too fresh Eiht and Chill is back with a funky track Yeah, you know that Hey, I got a 100 to spend What's up on some Hen? Yo, man, I'm with that Let's roll down Compton Boulevard I know there's stores, they open like, late night Wanna step? ( VERSE 3: MC Eiht ) 2 a.m. on the 91 freeway, lookin spooky Headed to this girl house to get my dookie Stopped at the station to fill up the tank 4 niggas rollin, I better watch out for the gank Move, it was smooth, one of the fools jumped out Started poppin all this ying-yang from his mouth I said, "Look, my name is Eiht, and I'm your local town rapper" He said ("So what? I'm your local town jacker") Right then I knew I couldn't reason with the chap So the thought came (E, peel his cap) I reached under the seat, the sucker got brave * shots * (Sucker) The punk was sprayed Checked out myself, everything was cool Damn, had to lay to rest a crazy fool Geah, don't try to play, cause yo, that ain't my type And you'll get hip to my late night hype Damn, suckers on my tip Man, homeboy just didn't know So we got to peel Youknowmsayin, E? Man, Chill, these suckers got to know ain't no sleepin Homeboy, you know we know what's up And that's on that Youknowmsayin? Hey man, let's kick it I'm with it ( VERSE 4: Tha Chill ) On a night when things was goin kinda slow Me and E takin to the head a cold 4-0 I was buzzin and clownin a skee' that was short Right then Eiht passed me the smoke Chillin much hard, and the phone start ringin I was buzzin and it looked like the house was swingin I couldn't fake it, barely made it to the door I hit a corner, claimed my spot on the floor Suddenly I smelled perfume that was lit Opened my eyes, and I had to take a hit Knock-knock-knock on the door, somebody's trippin It was my girl, E said (Hit the bud' and stop sippin) She kept riffin, I said, "Shut the trap You're pissin me off, you keep it up, and I slap" She said, "No", I said, "Geah, fool, take a hike I got no time for your late night hype" Hey man Check this out It's like these girls, man They just comin to the house like 3 o'clock in the mornin, man I can't even deal Man, that ain't nothin I had this girl last night over my house trippin Bangin on my door all night Moms was goin off Youknowmsayin? Hey man, I be trippin off these girls I hear Tryin to say they down with the E, knowmsayin? But they can like save the drama for they mama Hey, they keep trippin with me, I'ma have to whip You know me Put the whip down on em suckers, huh? |
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Wake your punk ass up
The MC Eiht's back in the muthaf**king house Kicking the straight gansta shit for teh 9-1 You know what I'm saying, yea Growing up in the hood, yea boy, 1984 Was the year my peers didn't know what was in store A little hard head kid came abade Time to pay my dues, learn the tricks of the trade And at home, it's the same ass story Mom's treat me like she don't even know me But my younger brother's got much clout I can't take this shit so I bones the hell out And roll wit the pack of wicked muthaf**kas No shorts are taken, we're down black brothers A little nigga wit no problems at all F**ked up and killed my first 8-ball Quick up the stairs so little sucker stop looking Stagger to the house so I can collect my whooping But watch out 'cause a little nigga's up to no good Growin' up in the hood (Chorus) Life ain't nuttin but bitches and money 'Cause in the city you live and let die Nutting but bitches and money I got hard times and realize, ?(skate)? sometimes I wonder But it just seems that the hood could took me under Police sweat my tip and keep harrassing Trying to lock me up 'cause I keep on blasting Community trying to shut me out But the money keeps flowing and I got much clout Wit the cluckers, the brother back street punk suckers Try to break me out fool, you be a short muthaf**ka Always strapping, eager to peal a cap I set up a trap, put your foot to a nap 'Cause I grew up fast on the wrong side of the law So watch me take 2 to your jaw Don't enter my hood homeboy Not a robocop, a robogansta, ready to destroy I take chances 'cause life to be ain't no good Growin' up in the hood Life ain't nuttin but bitches and money Where I'm at if you're soft, you're lost Nuttin but bitches and money 1987, I'm back on the scene, out of jail, I'm legit And I'm f**king up shit I'm ready to peal a sucker's cap And I heard that my hood was making snaps As I precede to make my riches Just like the neighborhood kingpin, pimp, and all these bitches Task force trying to roll deep But I'm playing these punk fools cheap Niggas rolled by and try to blast, it didn't work I seen the bullets flying and fool, I hit the dirt Bullets fly through the window Hits my brother, down goes my mother As I'm rolling, I'm hitting my switches Looking for the punk ass, sons of bitches I found them, before I kill 'em, I said you f**ked up good Got ta handle that, growin' up in the hood (Chorus) yea-a-a-a A brother's on the run, I've got a hand in my stash box Wanted 'cause I'm serving them the potent fat rocks And my face is like a household name Everybody warns their kids about the dope game But I'm still makin gmy profit And the one time just can't stop it So I keep hiding my face No time to waste, they got me on the chase Now the neighborhood's on my line 'Cause some punk ass fool had drop the dime 5-0 at my doo' at 8 o'clock Rush to the toilet so I could flush the rock Out the backdoor, freeze, I heard a shout Am I sho', yo I guess I got no clout But it's murder one, I'm the victim, damn, that ain't good Growin' up in the hood where im at if you soft you lost compton is tha city that im claimin city that im from take no shit from chump,compton is tha city that im claimin where im at if you soft you lost compton is tha city that im claimin city that im from take no shit from (till fade) |
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Yo, Eiht and Chill
It's a rumour going around sayin Compton's Most Wanted ain't funky enough Like we can't cut it, or somethin like that Personally, I don't know where the rumour got started They must be waitin for the album to drop or somethin But anyway, in the meantime Eiht, you're the first one up on this demo Set the record straight [ VERSE 1: MC Eiht ] As I commence with the def dope strategy Of the lyrics I'm bustin, suckers tend to get mad at me Fill it to the limit at the top of my cup Press your luck, lose a buck as you get tossed up I presume that you fools wanna get some As the bass starts to boom I begin to get real dumb Downest is the Eiht from the C-p-t Floor a punk in a minute tryin to fuck with me Or try to stick up, so watch me kick up a little dust Stupid little punk, Eiht'll all-out bust Compton's Most W-a-n-t-e-d Top choice, best, can't fade the rest Hah! Eiht is only good for steady dumpin Geah, Unknown and Slip be like bumpin High, cause you're so fly - dud Kick back with the pack, and I get high off the bud' Cause I'm with that Yeah, Eiht, that was like funky I think that'll do the trick But Chill - you're next up to bat on this You with it? [ VERSE 2: Tha Chill ] Yo, let's go, another star The p-a-r-t-n-e-r Of the E, the back-and-forth, the mic-switchin And the lyrics Eiht write be like pitchin Rough, cause the rhythm makes your goosebumps pump I could drop you in a minute, so shut up, chump I'm down for doin, won't be called no punk Rag a pack, crackerjack, hit the endo blunt Chill, will get ill, so get real Still, let me kill, and you can pay up the bill The lyrics that I bust make you brag and boast How CMW rocks the fresh West Coast Eiht and Chill, two fresh Afro-Americans DJ Mike T is down with me ??? 3 The Hard Way is the way that it goes Just another dumb victim with a swoll' up nose Because I'm with that |
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geah...wutup niggas
the compton cyco is back In your shit for the nine-deuce And check this out My nigga Scarface is in the motherfuckin house And we bout to drop some gangsta shit MC Eiht: I guess its true what they say, when your too far gone aint no turning back. And coming from the Compton mack thats a fuckin fact. Livin in the city where bitches won't give up the pussy for free so a nigga don't. So heres my story. Another story about a nigga who lives his life by the fuckin trigga. Gotta get my serve on, nigga you don't hear me though Throw up the hood, might blast on 5-0. First I hit the Ides and get pumped up. Now I'm rollin in the car kinda slumped up. I pop the glove box, Then I reach the block, Then I plug your ass in the chest with the glock. And that's how the shits get done, I guess I'm a mutherfuckin nigga on the run. but I wont let them take me alive, so I don't sleep Cuz, geah, I'm in too deep. Scarface In too deep, aint no turnin back. Cock up your mutherfuckin gauge... Mista-Mista Scarface for the nine-deuce, Niggas pack a nine, fuck you bitch I pack a nine too. Millimeter Ruger for you hoes who try to flex nuts, You point your shit, I pull my shit, come nigga now lets check nuts. Born a hustla, raised a hustla, never gonna stop trick. Buck a hustla, mutherfucker boy, you better die bitch. Found myself a busta, had the boy front me an Oz. Fucked him out his money, worked my way up to a whole key. Now he's got some niggas trying to ball 'Face Time to go to work, need some back' better call Eiht. Call my nigga up, Kicked the fundementals. 2 way ticket 3 o'clock, continental. Eiht rolled in with the mutherfuckin task force, Bucked them hoes off, dropped him off at the airport Niggas don't ever fuck with me cuz I'm a nigga who plays the game for keeps, Drop you on your ass with the quickness, cuz I'm in too deep. MC Eiht Geeah, the criminals is in the mutherfuckin house.. Now they got us on the run, but we tired of runnin Got the glocks all cocked, let the fools keep coming. Scarface got the mutherfuckin pump under the seat. So niggas better duck or your ass is fucked. geah. The mad man with nuthin to lose. So you better bring your strap or catch the blues. And um, or get served like a damn clucker, sucker, or in the end be a short mutherfucker. Now them one times is all on my back and heard that Scarface and Eiht peeled the cap and they wanna gaffle us up. But its a shame. Can't fade the best from Compton and the mid-west. So watch your back when the niggas step. cuz the scene that is left is your whole families death. And fool don't sleep, Cuz sorry mutherfucker, we in too deep. Geah. In your shit for the nine-deuce. MC Eiht in the mutherfuckin house, and my nigga Scarface and shit. DJ Slip in mutherfuckin house. And we killin the shit off. Geah. |
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