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Once upon a time, it was a nigga from Compton With a militant mindset and an innocent conscience He got into some nonsense Nigga jumped in the car with a strap out Just got done mixin' dope in the trap house, black out Back out, rags out, stack house, tap out Trigger finger itchy, lookin' for opps In the city where these niggas do not Fuck around when they holdin' them Glocks Drop the top while you ride in the drop In the kitchen like we know Betty Crock' Cook the dope, take it out of the pot Rock it up then we back on the block Niggas jaw-jackin' while the cars passin' Started jackin' Dickies, that's our fashion Turn the lights off when the law's flashin' Niggas in the field, playin' all Madden Assassin, we back-to-back in Impalas and Cadillac Escalades, matte black With cactus sticks hangin' out the back of it Niggas don't know the half of it We come through like we cappin' shit Ski maskin' shit, click-clackin' shit All in your mail, open packages Letras de cancionesOn this Compton shit, demonic shit Chronic kicks with confidence, ominous Obviously, probably be high as fuck And that's why we trippin', I'ma mind the shit Running over prominent Neighborhoods just to bring our mama shit Dominant nigga shit They gon' wish they left us on the biggest continent Hood politics, the drama gets sticky Hollow tips, I'm lettin' off fifty Out of it 'cause I'm ridin' round tipsy Promise this is payback for Nipsey Once upon a time, it was a nigga from Compton Threw a rag in his pocket and start callin' it Bompton He was nickel and dimin', was the sign of the times when— Nigga had to take a deep breath I tried walkin' straight past him I seen T-Flats and they askin' I got on my khakis, my rag is hangin' Out the back under my backpack And all my homies in a casket That's why I'm standin' in the Gap with this Ratchet, tryna get to Tam's After that, walk all the way to Athens So what the fuck is up? My knuckles up My daddy always told me that I had to toughen up I got my hat backwards and the strap back in I ain't have a thought if they was buckled up I've been outside since I was jumped in In my hood, they call that Double Dutch This Cedar Block where heaters pop And we catch fades, come get this uppercut Back home with the lights off and the roaches Can't write shit, can't rap, can't focus Got blunt burns in my grandma sofa I'm hopin' I don't end up hopeless Used to play ball, dribble the rock and fuck roaches Stack bread whether or not it got molded All red, circle the block, it's not over Ain't lettin' niggas get shot without motives All dead niggas' blocks we drive over Never look back or stop for y'all vultures Drive straight over the tops and got focus Ready or not, we 'bout to take over We soldiers, hold 'em, not fold 'em Boulders is rollin' like Otis Tempted to take the controller Out your hand, fuck my composure Windows get rolled down, we smokin' Enemies, opps and whoever Outside, no matter the weather Handguns is light as a feather Fly off the handle, you die No, we ain't waitin' to ride We called your slice of the pie And tell 'em they space in the sky Once upon a time, it was a nigga from Bompton With a flow like a monster who was movin' that contraband Damn, y'all niggas is sick You bet' not hold your breath in this bitch Pressin' the issue, new 'Vette I'ma show you what the shit do, new TEC And it's military issue, see blood So it definitely hit you, ayy, Blood What they do with all the tissue? Pass around at the funeral, it's unusual To see his opps standin' in the background, laugh now No pat downs, I'm in here with the strap now Blatt-blatt-blatt, brratt It's a wrap, niggas ain't comin' back It's a wrap, you can tell 'em I said it Nigga been dead and we still ain't dead it And the whole block live, ten Glock .9s Everybody on they Lives, nigga My team vers' your team Middle of the SoFi, tell 'em take a dive, nigga Black lives matter, don't they? But niggas kill niggas, won't they? Pull up on the corner, leave you laid out Next to the lady sellin' elote It's "Gang-gang" 'til it's time to roleplay He was ballin' at a nigga, OJ We in and out and we ain't have to crochet I'm a smooth criminal, Annie, are you okay? I was robbin' niggas, I was jackin' for beats I was baldhead with my khakis creased Jumpin' over fences with the athletes feet I was off to Compton, I was packin' heat Never met D-Wade yet Never hit the 101 Freeway yet In the game, but ain't say EA yet OutKast ain't made 3K yet I was in your house like— From Letras Mania