Lyrics
, let's make it big pharell, wake up in the morning, oh shit!, had to cock the 9, niggas tryin' to steal my pits, went out the back door, see them niggas hit the fence, i'm telling you, life in compton is a bitch, let off a couple shots, god damn, i missed, say fuck it anyway, and let off the whole clip, i'm not to be fucked with, when i'm off liquor, old english in my system, 'bout to kill me a nigga, see, i remember back in the days, loadin' my ak, ridin' 'round in my impala with my lungs full of haze, that's when i didn't give a fuck, now i got my son, shoot a nigga, he die, public enemy number one, but, this ain't no action flick, no johnny depp shit, when the tec spit hollow tips in your lexus, so. don't fuck with a compton nigga when he packin' the gat, yeah, nigga, i stay strapped, somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me!, somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me!, is it the shades? is it the j's?, is it the bentley with the full color ways?, or the old-school sittin' on blades, what could be?, it's 2-o'-clock in the afternoon, i'm 'bout to roll a swisher, 'cause that's what real niggas do when they at home, watchin' espn on the 70-inch flat screen, k-gs and wade jerseys, blowin' chronic, that green, gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams, turn hood zombies into a olympic track team, 'till i got shot, and infiltrated the rap scene, had to clean my life up, doc gave me the vaccine, don't get it twisted, i still click-clack things, red beam attached to each and every strap, that i keep locked up in my basement, if i shoot a nigga, will the lord forgive jayceon?, i don't know, still got a sick fetish for shoot-outs and car chases, fuck pacino, 'cause we know niggas with scarfaces, and we go back, like d-boys and small faces, and we crashin' new ferraris while ya'll hatin', pharrell i think it's, somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me!, somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me!, is it the shades? is it the j's?, is it the bentley with the full color ways?, or the old-school sittin' on blades, what could be?, you know the answer, fool, niggas cain't fuck with me, real spit, i guess i am a motherfucking legend, will smith, all i'm missin' is a bitch like jada, bonnie & clyde shit, hit the fence like later, sayonara, arrivederci, black rose phantom, interior hearse shit, and i got some kisses from a couple brooklyn bitches, them hoes'll never testify, peace to common, but game keep it hood like weaves and top ramen, never stop coming for the top, if the bass a flesh wound and pharrell a head shot, motherfucker, and when he take aim, bullets enter your frame, my bars simi-lar, to a dragon swalloin' flames, cain't walk through the club and take a piss, without these new school rap niggas on my dick, while you fuck around with your jewelry and all your whips, i pull up with your bitch pumpin' gangsta shit, now you know, somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me!, somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me!, is it the shades? is it the j's?, is it the bentley with the full color ways?, or the old-school sittin' on blades, what could be?, you know the answer, fool, do ya thing, shawty, do ya thing, shawty, do ya thing, shawty, e'rybody lookin' now, do ya thing, shawty, do ya thing, shawty, do ya thing, shawty, e'rybody lookin' now, go, go, go, go, go, go, e'rybody lookin' now, go, go, go, go, go, go, e'rybody lookin' now
Song details
Artist: game, the