Testi

What we gonna do right here is go back Now this is some shit that's from the Dayz of Wayback When niggas in Compton first started to jack When the bitches wouldn't give you no pussy, if you wasn't sellin' drug So many bitches in my neighborhood got mugged They always loved that shit, they want a nigga that's sellin' Ks But nowadays they workin' at Mickey D's But in the Dayz of Wayback I couldn't be laid back Because I needed ends and I made that I get the nine from my nigga that he lend me and Start robbin' muthafuckas, just like cowboys and indians Anything it took to get paid A nigga like Ren already had the plane made And I was in it to win it and not to lose And shit, it start blowin' up, once I lit the fuse And police couldn't touch me because I was payin'em But not with no money, yo, I was frayin' 'em And never get caught because nobody is snitch But one hoe did, so Ren had to shoot the bitch Now she's in a coffin and my life is better off and 'Cause everybody knows who's the bossin' That black nigga that they call Ren You fuck with me, you gotta fuck with a Mac-10 So listen to me as I reminisce the Dayz of Wayback So check it out y'all It was once a time in the Dayz of Wayback When niggas was gettin' jacked In fact it was one I used to pass through And kickin' ass through up Muthafuckin' Compton Massacre Now let me tell you a little something about Compton When I was a kid and puttin' my bid in Yo, Compton was like still water, just strictly calm Now it's like muthafuckin' Vietnam Everybody killin', tryin' to make a killin', Niggas stealin', muthafuckas willin' and dealin' With so many ways to come up The average nigga didn't give a fuck About another muthafucka in this game and Claimin' what he claimin' Livin' like he livin', Killin' after killin' Murder was a dirty job to rob a dead man Was the best plan, 'cause a dead man never ran But now your best friend is your worst friend Greed, cash the fee, make a me more some of what you holdin' So now your shit is stolen And you and your niggas start rollin' Yo, to get your shit back ain't a word of Muff? It's more murder, more murder, more murder They wanna make you think that it's a crack thang Or a black thang Or some niggas in a muthafuckkin' gang But guns and money they go together like the Ku Klux Klan A nigga brung up and strung up Why do I call myself a nigga you ask me? Rememberin' the days that's past me Yo, never givin' niggas a chance to rest The ghetto is like a fuckkin' survival test And number one way for you to pass Yo, get treated like a king and they'll crown your ass They never in the wrong though So I made a song so Muthafuckkas had to know If, yo, livin situations make you wanna get a gat That's 'cause you livin' in the Dayz of Wayback Surprise, niggas You don't think I could do it again, did ya? Another album The jokes on you, Jack (Yeah! Yeah! Ha ha ha ha! We did it again) We did it again!
Writer(s): Langdon Jr. Fridie, Robert Manigault, Douglas Gibson, Harry V. Jensen, Norman Bruce Napier, Gregory Allen Webster, Burke Reeves, Tracy Lynn Curry, James W. Castor, Gerry Thomas, Marvin R. Pierce, Andrew Noland, Walter Morrison, Ralph Middlebrooks, Marshall Eugene Jones, Leroy Bonner, Lorenzo Jerald Patterson, Andre Romell Young Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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