Lyrics

Tired of the motherfucking jackin' Boys that be jackin' Tired of the motherfucking jackin' Police, wanna front; wanna jack (1 MC Eiht) On a day at the spot where the homies be chillin' Gossiping about the latest Compton killin' Brothers is deep, and no time to sleep The Boys on the tip, and they trying to creep Had a G-ride, so I suggest that we punch it Grover was driving, and doing about a hundred Hit a corner on the plate checked the spot Seen the P.D. lights, down the spot was hot Ed Dog was cuffin'. Threw in the back Chiste and Lil' Rock jacked for selling that crack E-man, hit the fence, yelled out, "See you later!" Shark then pulled out the big blue blazer Dookie and Boo didn't know what to do Jumped in the car with D.T, bumpin' CMW Hit a U around the corner, did it work? I wonder C.P.D. on my ass, and they burnin' rubber Didn't want to be like brother and fly locked up So I downed the bourb' that was still in my cup Parked the G-ride, and I started to bail Cause my trip was to home, not the County Jail Police swooped by the time the Boys was near me Go-Go fled cause the homie was kind of leery I wasn't sweating shit, cause they had nothing on me Bam looked bad, gave a name that was phony They peeped out the pager, said, "How much did it cost? By the way, MC Eiht, where's the dope you tossed?" "Me sell dope? Officer, I'm a rap singer Won't go down like the Compton gangbanger." They ran a warrant check, I must have had good luck But the homie who ran? Mmmm, One Time gaffled him up () Get your ass in the car Ho hold it now Keep still boy. No need for static Get your ass in the car Ho hold it now Keep still boy. No need for static Get your ass in the car Ho hold it now Keep still boy. No need for static Get your ass in the car You're coming with us! (2 MC Eiht) Had a show to do on a Thursday night Me, Chill, Slip, and Tom rolling in Big White Loaded as fuck, Bumping "The Cactus." I hope the Stoney Boys don't try to jack us Gas tank was loaded, and so was the E Kind of buzzed of the sack of the good E.T Chill was bustin' raps about the good ol' days Switching to another form about how he get paid Just then the Boys came behind the truck Tom looked out and said, "What the fuck?!?!" A motorcycle cop riding hard on the tip Had to clown his ass once, and said, "This ain't no C.H.I.P.s!" Homie had a warrant for a D.U.I And in my pocket was a fat sack of Chocolate Thai Damn! (damn) Now it's time to get nervous Starey Clown caught back em, and they was fixing to serve us Dumb Dumb walked up and started asking for names They he peeped me out and asked what's the gang I claim The fact that I'm black is the reason you jack me I've got to gang bang cause of the hat and khaki's If I was in the hood, the dummy wouldn't have found me He said, "Shut the fuck up 'fore you're headed for the County!" He was already late. The fools had they nerves To have us sitting contest on the edge of the curb Twas showt, shorter that showt. What can I say? "Keep on talking. Go ahead. Make my day He started to acting tough n' Chill thought he was bluffin But in a second or two, the Boys started the cuffin Bud in our pockets. Brew in our cups No time for explanations. One Time gaffled us up () Get your ass in the car Ho hold it now For when? For what? I ain't guilty! Get your ass in the car Ho hold it now For when? For what? I ain't guilty! Get your ass in the car Ho hold it now For when? For what? I ain't guilty! Get your ass in the car You're coming with us!
Writer(s): Andre Manuel, Terry Allen, Aaron Tyler Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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