 Born and Raised in Compton: The Greatest Hits » Lyrics [+ Pievienot +] |
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1. _ Pitch in ona Party
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2. _ Born and Raised in Compton
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3. _ Down, Down, Down
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4. _ You'z a Ganxta
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5. _ Do I Love Her?
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6. _ Loked out Hood
One day I was chillin' on Araabie and spruce
Forty in my hand and it's time to get loose
Got my Nikes, Fila t-shirt, and black khakis
I heard a horn blowin' and I jumped in my jacket
John was chillin' in the passenger seat
Stepped up out the car and started dancing in the street
Now John was lookin' fresh and it wasn't no joke
He had on some fresh khakis and was sportin' some Locs
Some gangstas poppin' wheelies came up from behind
He got off throwin' up his favorite gang sign
Here come Little Snub, from the Maple block
Groovin' on the handlebars, ready to rock
And now my posse's gettin' bigger, 'cause of all these niggas
I got the .38 and I'm about to pull the trigger
Looked up at the corner and who did I see?
Wayne and his little man Pop and Nookie
Now Sha came rollin' up on a little scooter
Lookin' for a match so he could light the Thai huddha
I told him I didn't have it, but yet I went to grab it
I lit it up and hit it up, and now I'm draggin' it
Wayne took a hit, Pop took a puff
Nookie started chokin' and now he's fucked up
The forty-ounce is hittin', so I busted into school
I'm never gettin' sweated 'cause I'm just too cool fool
Sun's goin' down and now it's night
My posse's cold chillin' and we're feelin' alright
We heard a lot of noise and it sounded like a rally
Boomin' ass sounds comin' out of Sherm Alley
We all jumped up and we started to stroll
A young nigga like the Quiksta was takin' control
The D.E.A. posse so deep we walked three twos
Now if you want to join then you gotta pay ya dues
We got up to the alley and everything was chill
They was just makin' that dollar dollar bill
Reesa came down and she sat on the stairs
I stood up 'cause I didn't have a chair
Now Pop said, "Yo! Let's get some cuts
Get that Old 8 so we can get fucked up"
Now I'll put a twenty H put a 10
And said, "Fuck it! Super soca and gin"
Now everybody's gettin' in the twilight zone
Head up stairs and they're gettin' weirdo
Gangsta's on the steps and he's tryin' to bang
No belt in his khakis so his Lee's could sag
Here comes Stick with a twenty dollar bag
But he can't roll a joint 'cause he ain't got no zigzags
I looked up at my watch, it said 10:28
You better run up to the liquor store before it's too late
He went to the store and he got the zags
He came back walkin' with my homeboy Cash
Sucka came over he was lookin' for a ride
Runnin' from the police, he ain't have no place to hide
A smile came on my face when I swallowed my beer
I'm chillin' like a villain and I got no fear
Now Tony Lane came he said he was bored
Eatin' on some chips that he got from the store
I said I'm bored too, so what's up with that?
Wayne said "Is anyone down to jack?"
Now I can get the AK and you can get the pump
But I don't want no deuce-deuce, 'cause I ain't no chump
Now Mike said, "Dane which one do you choose?"
"I could take the .38 and you can have the Uze"
But before we can jet and be on our way
Some niggas rolled up and they was ready to spray
Rollin' real slow, they turned off the lights
Waitin' until the time was right
A fool jumped out all dressed in Guess?
(Yeah) shot him in the chest
The niggas tried to jet, but the couldn't get far
'cause Mike had the uzi and he aimed it for the car
Ha Ha
Now that's how it's done and we do it good
Just another day in my loked out hood
Now all y'all remember that we can't be stopped
What's the name of my hood?
(Ha ha ha ha)
(Figure that shit out you fools)
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7. _ Dollaz + Sense
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8. _ Quik Is the Name
[DJ Quik]
You want to see a young brother from the Compton tip check a grip
Well keep lookin', because the see-A-M-E-O track is cookin'
Like a big ol' pot of neck bones, we'll tend to fire up
Because a young brother like the Quik is gettin' wired up
You know my offbeat style is flowin' all the while
I'm showin' suckers, they can't get none of this
Let alone some of this, I'm a musical genius
And if you fuck with my roll {"Face, down, HUT HUT HUT HUT!"}
I beat yo' ass as if uh we was playin' Tecmo Bowl
I'm a producer if a rhythm is dope I choose it
And I hope you know I'd rather +BE+ dope than use it
I was a Player in the Penthouse and now I'm uprooted
A young scallion in them khaki suits and booted
With a 40 in hand I'm a take a stand
I'm lettin' em know they can't fuck with the one man band
And if a soft sucker want to know who's to blame
I let 'em know - Quik is the Name
[DJ Quik]
Now can we get back on the tip of the real unadulterated funk
This beat is gettin' funky just like a skunk
And the funk is that I step with the style I show
Let's blow these motherfuckin' nimrods doin' low
What makes you think that you can even try to step to me?
I hold the dice without six on the tea leaf
I know you want to win some go on and try your luck
Punk, put your money on the floor and get bucked
By a pro-fession-al, rhyme hoodlum
Hoochies all over my tip because I screwed 'em
One-time can't lock me up, cause I elude 'em
And bubblegum rappers can't fade me cause I chewed 'em
So suckers get at me I'm the "Q" in quotations
And the see-P-T is the location
I won't talk in riddles cause you don't need the strain on your brain
To make it simple - Quik is the Name
[DJ Quik]
Yeah, I don't compare my rhyme styles to no gat
'Cause to me that bullshit is SUPER wack
I just remain plain and kick the facts
Bout how a nigga can't keep from gettin jacked
You gotta hold your own at any cost
'Cause if you don't boy you might get bossed and tossed
By a sucker who claims he got more game than you
Bein' true is what you oughta do
Or you just might find some chrome pointed at your dome
Think fast or you might not make it home
See a nigga like myself ain't goin out like that
Because I found that it pays to pack a gat
In the city where surival is a full-time job black
And it ain't givin' nothin' back
The fo'-fo'll keep a motherfucker tame
Behind the trigger yo, Quik is the Name
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9. _ Tonite
Here we go
Yo a day in the life of a player named Quik
I'm just a stubborn kind of fellow with a head like a brick
And just because I drink the 8 they say that I'm hopeless
But I don't give a fuck so blame it on the loc est
Now this is how we do it when we checkin' a grip
Teddy Bear's in the house so don't even trip
We're bustin' funky compositions as smooth as a prism
So check it while I kick it to this funky ass rhythm
It's Friday morning, the phone is ringin' off the hook brrrrrring
And AMG is puttin' down girl rhymes in his notebook
Or should I say dope sack, because we don't bust wack brrrrrring
I pick up the phone and it's the D (whassup nigga?)
He said he's comin' down at about two on the dot
So I'm about to rush the tub while my water's still hot
And now I'm soakin', a brother like the devestatin' DJ Quik ain't jokin'
Fuck with me on DSP and you'll get broken
My name is Quik, but you can call me Daddy
Yo open up the door, they think I'm Freak Man in a Caddy
Now Freaky's in an El doggin shabbies in at Alco
And everybody's sippin' on a quart (here we go)
D just came with a forty and a quart
In addition to the three that Greedy just brought
But I don't want to start early, so I just might
put my forty in the freezer 'cause I want to get bent tonight
Tonight's the night (yeah) tonight
Tonight is the night tonight
Tonight's the night (yo when we gon get bent) tonight
Tonight is the night (aww yeah)
And now I'm out of the tub up in a fancy freak
Spray on some serious and put on my Girbaud jeans
Sweatsuit, the gray one with the burgundy trim
And it's a medium, fit me proper cause I'm nice and slim
Five thirty on the clock and the sun is steadily sinkin'
And I am steadily thinkin' about the 8 that I'll be drinkin'
You know I ain't ashamed and you know I ain't bashful
So go on and pop the forty so I can pour me a glassful
Ham is in the bedroom rollin' up a stencil
Fatter than a pinky and the length of a pencil
Freakie lit it up and hit it one two three
Shabby took a hit and then they pass it to me
It's the bomb!
Yo I can feel my senses Get numb!
Yo fuck the forty ounce I need some rum!
I'm chillin' like a villain Here I come!
And that's how I'm livin'
Tonight is the night and I'm lookin' real sporty
Proper Friday evening and I'm ready to party
Crusher came in with a handful of snaps
Fuck it, let's shoot some craps
(Yo what they in fo') A fin or a half
(Yo shoot that ten nigga) Don't make me laugh
Hi-see want a dove and he think that shit is funny
But I'm seven and eleven and I'm takin' niggaz money tonight
Tonight's the night (yeah watch me fuck the hoe) tonight
Tonight is the night (passin' naturals on motherfuckers) tonight
Tonight's the night (yo, I'm unfadable) tonight
Tonight is the night (ahh let's break it down, so I can get funky)
tonight
Ah yeah
Givin' em somethin' they can roll on, hold on
Wake up Saturday morning and I got a headache
I can't believe that I'm sick from all the shit that I drank
last night Soon as I felt it comin' on
I should quit, it's true that a drunk ain't shit
To the man up above, the whole thanks I give
I'll never drink again if you just let me live
Mike P spoke to me and I said I couldn't call it
Call it Earl like a mother while I'm grippin' the toilet
I need a 7-Up, because my head is spinnin'
Round and round I think I better sit down
My homey Shot is alright, but I'm feeling faint
I guess he's used to it, but a nigga like Quik ain't
K is on the phone, and Teddy's at the door
Some fine ass bitches comin' over at four
(I thought you ain't drinkin' no more) Yeah right
Because as soon as they come, we doin the same ol shit tonight
Tonight's the night (yeah) tonight
Tonight is the night (straight gettin' fucked up, hey) tonight
Tonight's the night (fuck that pass me that pina colada) tonight
(Man I don't want to fade that 8 Ball no mo)
Tonight is the night (that shit be fuckin' a nigga up) tonight
Tonight's the night (ahh yeah nothin' but a party and I'm kickin' it)
(What's up Pete and Greg) tonight
Tonight is the night (how you livin?) tonight
Tonight's the night (hey somebody get that nigga a Genuine Draft)
(Yeah) tonight
Tonight is the night (and on that motherfuckin' note, I'm outta here)
(See-ya) tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight
We out (what about peace?) Fuck peace nigga, give me another brew
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10. _ U Ain't Fresh!
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11. _ Summer Breeze
Now even though I was only a young buck I was still trying to kick it.
Having a gang of fun, and much too young to be wicked.
'Cause when I was thirteen you know we didn't have cars.
It was either double ride the peg nuts, or hop on the handle bars.
And then we went and bought a gang of balloons and had
A water balloon fight that lasted until the night.
Then after that we played some "hide and go get it"
With the neighborhood homegirls dumb enough to be with it.
All in fun and games and keeping it cool,
But my, my, when you're kicking it, time flys by;
'Cause every hour's a minute, and every minute's a sec.
And if I'd came home late my moms would ring my neck, yeah,
But I regret not the whoopings I got.
'Cause to be able to play the next day was okay.
On a mission, to hit up the neighbor's fruit trees;
Just a bunch of kids chillin', enjoying the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Summer breeze, flowing like the wind;
Boy, you need to know that you got a friend.
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
It'll always be me; (I'll always be here.)
Now I'm growing some fuzz; getting older - like seventeen, eighteen,
And the only thing I know is to stay clean.
T-shirt, short pants, Nikes on spotless.
I was even old enough to buy me a Cutlass;
A little vehicle to ride around town, play with the hos, and
Roll down the window and mack to the one who's chosen.
Yo, them biker pants is looking kinda right on you.
My name is DJ Quik, and my homies is having a barbeque.
Before I finish my whole sentence complete,
She was off the bus stop and in my passenger seat.
And we was sliding to the Westside, stopped at the store
To get some farm; 'cause that make 'em kick it a little more.
And at the spot, you know that chicken was kicking.
The pig on the grill, and, so, the day was chill,
But that night my girl was tipsy and ready to skeeze,
But I didn't even trip; too busy jocking the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
Now I'm twenty-three, and I remember the times when
We was chillin' like villians and didn't have no nines.
Like when we used to mob to beaches to kick it and swim.
Now I hang around and watch the tides come in,
And I'm thinking how many funerals I've been to.
Watching all my homies get buried in them boxes they put 'em into.
And then I read a letter from upstate, from my homie G-Wayne,
Who's been locked up since '87, '88.
And it really ain't nothing fly about it,
So he go: "I'm a stay strong, or I'm a break down and simply cry about it."
And when it seem like things just ain't gon' be right
I gotta thank my creator for letting me sleep last night.
And wake me up in the morn 'cause I shutter to think
That could be me dead, or locked away in the clink,
So I'm lifting my homie's spirits as tall as the trees,
And I can even hear him calling me, in the summer breeze.
[Chorus]
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12. _ Jus Lyke Compton
Finally out the motherfuckin see-p-t
Off to other cities and shit
No longer just an underground hit
Movin thangs... a local nigga made good
And made a name off of making tapes for niggaz in the hood
And now, let me tell a little story
About the places that i been to and the shit that i been through
Like fightin and shootouts and bangin and shit
All because a nigga made a hit, check it
Nineteen-ninety-one, it was double or nothin that a nigga would hit
Then we broke out with the fonky shit
About bitches and niggaz and gettin drunken off that bud
I was doing the shit they hadn't heard of
But foolish was i to think that it wasn't no other cities like this
And that they didn't like this
That compton was the home of a foot in yo ass
Where you got blast
And now that's just a thing of the past
Let me tell ya why firsthand, we did a show up in oak-land
And niggaz was kickin up sand, to them bangin ain't nothin new
And slangin ain't nothin new
And for every nigga we done shot
They done shot two
Straight through and on since the sixties before i was born
Families of young niggaz mourn
So i'm just letting you know
That if ya plan to take a trip to the bay
Keep your hand on the clip
Becaue oakland...
Yeah, i'm telling why'all oakland...
Moving on to st. louis, where thecountry is fucked
With gold teeth int hey mouth, but they still know what's up
Where it's hot as a motherfucker
Hot enough to make ya cuss
That's why i kept my ass on the bus
But later on, whenit cooled off we came down
And met a couple of friends
Who put us up on the st. louis cap
The smith center, with big bob, little steve, tojo, biss and rich
And a couple of bitches
Then they took us to a man named gus in a store
He put me down with a herringbone and shoes galore
That's when i started thinking that this wasn't like home
But then they had to prove me wrong
'cause later that night after we did the show
We went back to the afterset, and wouldn't ya know
Yeah, bloods and crips start scrappin and shootin -- in missouri?
Damn, how could this happen?
Now st. louis...
Yeah why'all, st. louis...
I don't think they know, they too crazy for their own good
They need to stop watchin that "colors" and "boyz in the hood"
Too busy claimin sixties, tryin to be raw
And never ever seen the shaw
But now, back to the story that i'm tellin
We packed up the tour bus one more time and started bailin
When we arrived i saw red and blue sweatsuits
When i'm thinkin bout horse dookey and cowboy boots
I guess texas ain't no different from the rest
And san antonio, was just waitin to put us to the test
And before it was over the shit got deep
A nigga got shot in the face, and was dead in the street
Then they came in the club thinkin of scrappin
Little did they know that we was packin
Yeah, we was puttin em down and squaring the rest, shit
I even had to wear the bulletproof vest
Now san antonio...
Yeah, san antonio...
After a month on the road
We came home and i can safely say
That l.a. is a much better place to stay
How could a bunch of niggaz in a town like this
Have such a big influence on niggaz so far away?
But still my story ain't over 'cause i got one more to tell
And the people of colorado, they know it well
It was all in the news and if you don't remember
I had this show i did in denver
With a punk ass promoter in a bunk ass skating rink
Bitches was loving it, but niggaz was shovin and shit
To the front of the stage to throw their gang signs
But i'm getting paid so i didn't pay it no mind
Then i poured out my brew onto their face and chest
Then they start throwin soda, and fuckin up my guests
When it was over two niggaz needed stitches
Got cracked in they jaw for being punk ass bitches
Now denver...
Yeah why'all, denver...
And ya know that oakland...
Yeah why'all st. louis...
Uh-huh, san antonio...
Yeah, and denver...
I thought ya knew...
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13. _ Way 2 Fonky
[DJ Quik]
Oh yes I'm new and improved, and to a funky-ass groove
My name is Quik and I'm smooth, and I'm making yo' ugly bitch move
With the streets you can't lose, but if you still want to choose
To be a sucker, I got a 380 punk, so duck her
And to you motherfuckers thinking you want to fade me?
I'm running the underground, so fool, you're crazy
And you better step, 'fore I beat you with a switch
And tie you up, and make you watch, while I'm fucking yo' bitch
Cause I'm a low-pro nigga that you should not fol-low
Putting suckers in the wind cause my voice is hollow
Put the pistol to your grill and your punk ass rolls
You grab my shit and I pull the trigger now you're missing a nose
And umm, I don't fear your crew because my back is got
Chasing nothing but the suckers when we hit yo' spot
Yeah, straight Bronx killer, mark ass niggas can't check me
But gotta respect me, cause I'm Way 2 Fonky
[Chorus]
Fonky, yeah, fonky, "you know I can't stop"
Fonky, yeah, fonky, "you know I can't stop"
Fonky, yeah, fonky, "you know I can't stop"
Fonky, yeah, fonky, yeah
[DJ Quik]
Now no sooner than I hit the fucking streets
People be approaching me, all throughout the swap meets
Asking me shit like, "When your new album coming out?"
"Is it different?" "Is it dope?" "Where yo' perm?"
What you talking bout?
I know you don't expect that a nigga gon' quit
Being nothing less than funky and banging out the dope-ass hits
Cause DJ Quik is a name that I take much much pride in
No egoes to hide in and no limos to ride in
Maybe a Cutlass or two, but still the same ol' shit
And me unclever? No never, I'll have this talent forever
The producer get funky down to the last ounce
And I'm creative too, so I don't need "Mo' Bounce"
But to you suckers in my city claiming I got a "Def Wish"
You should try again fool, you ain't hitting near this
Them wack ass tracks, make you sound like a monkey
Just a shot in the dark, from a punk-ass mark who ain't Fonky
[Chorus]
[DJ Quik]
Now when you records ain't that funky then it's easy to disrespect this
Cause you know that when I hit I didn't miss
Just like that "I'm Born and Raised," you wish you could fade
And when you picked up that album cover you knew I was paid, Tim
Cause we ain't going out and we ain't stuck in that old school shit
That boring flavor that just don't hit
Cause this is ninety-two, and yes yo' style is through
And if your record ain't selling well fool I thought you knew
That this is straight Bronx killer, straight Bronx murder
Yeah yo' city's a dump, and fool yo' shit don't bump
And 'member the "Jack the Rapper"? Yeah, your punk ass sat
That's when my homeboy D, was bout to flatten yo' cap
And you apologized to him, started kissing his ass
Saying you only dissed Compton for the money, so he gave you a pass
But you ain't moving shit on the streets
Get off the nuts of my city with them wack ass beats that ain't Fonky
[Chorus]
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