[Chill] You know what time it is Youknowmsayin O.G.'s in this shit CMW back in yo ass one time It's part 2, bitch You better bag yo hoe ass up and recognize real game in yo face What
[VERSE 1: Chill] Make a right on Alondra and see my name on the wall Tha Chill MC, remember me, from the land of the small Creepy crawlin, so I'm thuggin till my eyes shut tight Scandalous shit that I see, so the scandalous shit that I write I know the world got a ghetto, but see, I'm speakin on mine One-time, rat bitches, greedy niggas on the grind Hub City, boy, I love it, wouldn't trade jack for it Only half-employed, the other half ain't bored They credit-scamming, panhandling, lley-slanging, gangbanging Hangin to get the chips, haters flappin they lips Trip if I have to, hook and I know that I could Hooked up, meet with every set, spread love through every hood But there's too many beefs to be callin some shots Tryin to plug the [Name], Tragniews and Nutty Blocks Niggas done died for they turf, doin life for they turf Puttin work in, they close the curtain, the judges are adjourned And it's probably the same where y'll at Fools losin they whole life on both ends of the straps I'm low key, still in the City and gon' keep it jumpin Bitch, they call me Tha Chill, and yo, this is Compton
(Compton's in the house) (Compton's in the house) [Boom Bam] This is Compton (Compton's in the house) This is Compton
[VERSE 2: Boom Bam] C-o-m-p-t-o-n That's where I'm from, my friend That's the place where all that gangsta shit started Rest in peace to my dearly departed Smoked in the line of duty, no mystery Now you see why Compton's makin history? Heard you was dissin me, talkin about killin me Shit, I don't think you muthafuckas feelin me We here to take the crown back Cause most of you high profile suckers sound wack In fact, you lackin the skills that's needed You must be too drunk or you must be too weeded Enemies get defeated, and that's a fact Thousands of Westsider niggas got my back So come strong, bring it on and catch a stompin Muthafucka, this is Compton
(Compton's in the house)
[MC Eiht] Geah Compton, nigga Geah Compton all day, come on Geah
(Compton's in the house)
[VERSE 3: MC Eiht] Remember the days when I used to tote a deuce-five heater Coppin the fat sacks of stress in Watts off Alameda Young nigga from the hood, love the hood life, son Compton - bail through, better bring a gun My nigga Todd from the Park to nigga on cue Battle ground was the ghetto down in Tragniew Ballers, skeezers, no age limit matters When the one-times hit the block, knuckleheads all scatter Hittin the fence down the alley with a ass full of cavi One house downtown that'd love to have me With a swap meet up the block to get gear when I'm loc'in Liqor sto' right next do' to get papers, we smokin Fo' deep in a fo' do' bucket with fo' heats Add fo' mo', that's 16 slugs sweepin your street Who say Compton niggas can't get no pussy and scratch? When it's a gang of fuckin cluckheads and a pack of hoodrats This is Compton
[DJ Mike T scratches] (The might Mike T is now..) (Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rollin fo' deep) (Tha Chill is ready, so pass me the sack) (Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rollin fo' deep) (Eiht is back again with power after hour) (Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rollin fo' deep) (Slip plays the drums, the SP 1200) (Compton's Most Wanted, punk, rollin fo' deep) (Compton's) (Compton's in the house