It's mothafuckin' Game time!
[The Game:]
Six pounds of chronic on my grandma coffee table,
That's how you remember it, that's how I remember it.
Yeah, dip into the liquor store, 9 in my khaki's,
Crips tryna get at me, my red Impala bumpin' like acne,
My city a trap me: been shot, robbed, stabbed, chased home, socked out,
Jabbed by esé's, cops, degenerate niggas with rags,
Disintegrate niggas went into me, dome shots like Kennedy.
Slugs drippin' with Hennessey, got murderous tendencies,
And if you don't know where the fuck they got me from,
Martin Scorsese when I pull out my gun,
Scarface, car chase, tell me how your blood taste,
Ask your baby mama, she'll tell you how a Blood taste.
Basket case, still I'm back with Dre, wait, I never left,
Run up in Beats, «Bitch, pass the safe! Compton!»
Produced by a billion in this mothafucka,
Still smokin', Dre we need a ceiling in this mothafucka!
Compton! They're killin' in this mothafucka,
They're drillin' in this mothafucka,
Lock the door, they're stealin' in this mothafucka.
No chains, no reins, this my home,
Nigga, this Hub City, no fly zone,
Niggas pull out burners,
Start breakin' like turbo on ozone.
Crack fiends on the back streets,
Where the tracks lean and the needles lay,
And switchblades if you bitch-made.
Put chili all on your Frito Lay's
Where we dream of Montego Bay,
But all we got is the swap meet,
Where the cops meet, go bang bang,
Leaves blood stains on the concrete,
And I'm the only nigga bumpin' Mobb Deep
‘Cause I mob deep down that side street.
I'm a West Side rider, live with gats on collars,
Don't hate me, better get your dollars,
I be on Rosecrans with a Glock in both hands
Leanin' on that Brougham,
Flamed up like a coke can with my name on it.
[Asia Bryant:]
Another day in Compton, the thrill is high,
Know somebody's watching, but I don't know why,
Feel the fire burning, it touches the sky,
Feeling coming at you, I won't die tonight.
So I get by, I get by,
I get by, I get, I get by,
‘Cause it's just another day in Compton.