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JP Did This 1 Six in the morning, police at my door Woulda seen them niggas coming but the cameras is broke My nigga Ant in the kitchen cooking up for a week And my lil homie Pooh on my mama couch sleep We cooking base, we cooking base We cooking base, we cooking base 50 grams on the table, a key in the couch tucked And it's time to break it down cause everything getting flushed Looking out the window tryna find a way out Seen the SWAT team creeping on the side of the house They threw a canister through the window, it shattered the glass So I went into the closet and pulled out my gas mask It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky (And I die before I go back to jail, tell them niggas this is) Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky Letras de canciones Nigga fuck the cops They're supposed to have my house surrounded but it's not So I'm hopping over the back gate with my Glock Crossing Wilmington with 1500 in my sock Look across the street, they running in and out my spot Ant on the curb in cuffs And Pooh don't know what's going on cause he just woke up 'Til my Cincinnati fitted walked in and out the store Ain't find no drugs or guns so they let my niggas go We supreme, we mix that Sprite with that promethazine Hop in that Cutlass, hit the switch and flee the scene Euro coming up the block looking like a monster Chucking up P's when we riding through Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Riding down Alameda, everything was straight Until we stopped at a light, and ran into the Grapes My heart beating like a 15 inch with bass Cause I reached for my strap and it wasn't on my waist I'm a fool, what kind of nigga go to work without his tools? And you often watch wearing red like it's bool It's usually on sight with the Crips My guns stuck between the seats and them niggas ain't trip Bust a left on Imperial, sliding on gold rims Empty the guts out the swisher then hop on the 110 Look around, I don't see one black and white So we rolled the windows up and hotboxed at the light, yeah It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky (And I die before I go back to jail, tell them niggas this is) Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Bompton, Bompton Bompton Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge I'm trying not to lose my head, ah-ha-ha, ha-ha From Letras Mania