Ricky

Shit, Rick

Come on, man

Ricky

Help me, help me, somebody help me

Ricky

Ricky

Ricky

Blood of a slave, heart of a giant

Had to leave Aftermath, Dre said I was too defiant

That was five years ago, look how fast it go

Destroying Interscope, shot myself like Plaxico

But fuck that, blaze one, where the matches, yo?

Hit the freeway and see how fast the Aston go

Roll the window down, clip off the ashes so

You can see all my diamonds and how much cash I blow

How many bitches I fuck, how many cars I drive

How many goons I got, count 'em, and they all outside

**** try to shut me up like Malcolm

But standing in the window, case smoking was the outcome

Sometimes I get a little stressed and pop a Valium

Hit Hollywood late night and knock down a stallion

So **** think twice 'bout my medallion

Or you'll hear Cuba Gooding yelling (Ricky)

My nostalgia's a hunnid percent Compton, zero percent snitch

Park a Bentley and the Phantom on blocks where I used to pitch

Made the Cincinnati fitted more famous than Griffey did

And just to think, several years ago they tried to split his wig

Two to the chest, struck his heart, one hit his rib

Then I blacked out, like a movie all I could hear

Pull up on him, let's get him, let's get him

Get him, man, get him, cut him off, cut him off

Pull right here, cut him off

Go, man, go

Feeling all fucked up, woke up to a doctor

All I could think about was if the cops took my weed and my choppers

They want me to sing like Sinatra

I told the detective, get this clear like Belvedere vodka

Them five shots then created a monster

Hell's Kitchen coming straight outta Compton

I seen Boyz n the Hood, Morris Chestnut was a actor

Tupac was the real life (Ricky)

Then they shot down the **** that shot him

Swear to God

If I'm lying then Compton is New York and I'm Rakim

I'm from where **** get murdered over stock rims

And punched in the jaw just for a cocked brim

Nobody momma let the cops in

We ain't got no options

Wanted to be a boxer, but I was boxed in

Then my grandmother house went up for auction

And that's what killed her, I'm going back to buy the block then

Too many **** locked in, dig up Cochran

And defend all my **** with they face under stockings

Rather face God than twenty-five with no options

If Compton ain't the murder capital, we in the top ten

Drive-by with our face painted like a clown

With a tre pound, forty shells bouncing off the ground

That's how my living room sound when my brother got shot down