[Verse 1: Game]
I don’t read the XXL,
Told ‘em .45 the church, think, I’m destined for hell, oh, well,
Blood tears off the face of my Jesus piece,
It’s bloodshed, feel the cracks in my city streets.
I’m from the crack of them city streets,
Used to sell crack in them city streets, born in Blood, nigga,
In a coma five days, life of a thug, nigga,
Momma ain’t show, grandma almost pulled the plugged, nigga.
Used to pull the gun out, just because of Cuz niggas,
Five shots to the head ‘cause I’m a Blood nigga,
Nuttin brewin’ but soo-wooin’ where the fuck I’m from,
You lucky if you make it out of Compton, ask Andre Young.
Smell the scent of dead bodies ridin’ down Greenleaf,
No peace, so don’t get caught up with no piece,
Fuck Fatburger, we cookin’ that real beef,
Mommas mournin’ they sons, I’m talkin’ real grief;
Real funerals of them lost juveniles,
Tryin’ to be generals, be missin’ your dinner now, huh.
Say, it’s a blessin’ when you die in ya sleep‘
Cause the coroner don’t need no sheets, capice?
I’m sayin’, stop playin’, wrap him up in what he lay in,
Fold a nigga arms, now a casket’s what he pray in,
Compton streets raised me,
Can’t tell my grandma nothin’ ‘bout her baby, you crazy.
I said, she see no evil,
She don’t hear nothin’ at all.
You want to see tomorrow, you promise not to talk.
Say, “We on our way now, Imma see you again,
And when they ask you questions, you just answer,“What happened then?
What happened then?”
[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
I live this life at a pace that anyone can go,
Know your place and dedicate your role, to the faith that you’ll die alone,
Trace your steps, when I do step in a fire of broken bones,
And I require my heart’s desire, and when I reap what I sow.
I bought my momma a Benz, my boobie a Jag’,
A car for my dawgs, with a roof full of glass,
But still I be feelin’ like none of my light never casts
Outta that black cloud that’s been watered down since my first chopper blast.
But fuck that. I’m not worried even when it’s scurry,
Skurt off, makin’ them hurt off, I shoulda hurt them in a hurry,
Dirt off all under my fingers, dirt all of ‘em, gone is gone,
Shirt off when procedure, resuscitation came early.
I need you to keep quiet as a mouse,
Which is ironic ‘cause rats is what I’m talkin’ about;
I’m hearin’ the sonics of gunfire,
The whispers, the silent cries, even though I know, it’s an eye for an eye.
I was born a soldier,
Ride or die for mine.
Tattooed tears, and a lawyer
Tryin’ to give me life. Heaven, can you hear me? I know that hell can.
So, heaven, can you heal me?
I’m only just a man.
[Verse 3: Game]
You want to go to Compton? Nigga, I’ll take you there.
Hub City bodies get burnt butt-naked here,
Respect the code, niggas callin’ from the pen,
Colombian neckties on the outside from within,
And then your momma never see you again,
Casket to never wake up, plastered in MAC makeup, huh,
Niggas can’t hear you talkin’ from the sky,
And only five-year-olds see your ghost when you die, no lie.
Karma catches up to all you head honchos,
Two dome shots in that head, Griselda Blanco, Shit get real though inside the Fox Hills, though,
Nigga livin’ that fast life and get killed slow.
Ask Wack and Draws if a nigga run the streets,
My grandmother’s prayers saved you niggas, I never wanted peace,
Los Angeles, I’m the muthafuckin’ king here,
No first forty-eight, ‘cause muthafuckas don’t sing here, huh.
Исполнитель: The Game