Home Invasion

Once upon a time, it was a nigga from Compton
With a militant mindset and an innocent conscience
He got into some nonsense
Nigga jumped in the car with a strap out
Just got done mixin' dope in the trap house
Black out, back out, rags out, stack house, tap out

Trigger finger itchy, lookin' for opps
In the city where these niggas do not
Fuck around when they holdin' them Glocks
Drop the top while you ride in the drop
In the kitchen like we know Betty Crock'
Cook the dope, take it out of the pot
Rock it up then we back on the block

Niggas jaw-jackin' while the cars passin'
Started jackin' Dickies, that's our fashion
Turn the lights off when in lost fashion
Niggas in the field, playin' all Madden
Assassin, we back-to-back in Impalas and Cadillac
Escalate us, matte black with cactus sticks hangin' out the back of it
Niggas don't know the half of it
We come through like we cappin' shit
Ski maskin' shit, click-clack and shit
All in your mail, open packages

On this Compton shit, demonish it
Chronic kicks with confidence, ominous
Obviously, probably be high as fuck
And that's why we trippin', I'ma mind this shit
Running over prominent neighborhoods just to bring our mama shit
Dominant niggas shit, they gon' wish they left us on the biggest continent
Hood politics, the drama gets sticky
Hollow tips, I'm lettin' off 50
Out of it 'cause I'm ridin' round tipsy
Promise this is payback for Nipsey

Once upon a time, it was a nigga from Compton
Through a rag in his pocket and start callin' it Bompton
He was nickel and dimin', it was the sign of the times when
Nigga had to take a deep breath

I tried walkin' straight past him, I see T-Flats and they askin'
I got on my khakis, my rag is hangin' out the back under my backpack
And all my homies in a casket
That's why I'm standin' in the Gap with this ratchet
Tryna get to Tams after that walk, all the way to Athens

So what the fuck is up? My knuckles up
My daddy always told me that I had to toughen up
I got my hat backwards and the strap back in
I ain't had a thought if they was buckled up
I've been outside since I was jumped in
In my hood, they call that Double Dutch
This Cedar Block where heaters pop
And we catch fades, come get this uppercut

Back home with the lights off and the roaches
Can't write shit, can't rap, can't focus
Got blunt burns in my grandma sofa
I'm hopin' I don't end up hopeless
Used to play ball, dribble the rock and fuck roaches
Stack bread whether or not, it got molded
IRS circle the block, it's not over
Ain't lettin' niggas get shot without motives

All dead niggas' blocks we drive over
Never look back or stop for y'all vultures
Drive straight over the top of y'all focus
Ready or not, we 'bout to take over
We soldiers, hold 'em, not fold 'em, boulders is rollin' like Otis
Tempted to take the controller out your hand, fuck my composure

Windows get rolled down, we smokin', enemies, opps and whoever
Outside, no matter the weather, handguns is light as a feather
Fly off the handle, you die, no, we ain't waitin' to ride
We cop your slice of the pie and tell 'em they spacin' the sky

Once upon a time, it was a nigga from Bompton
With a flow like a monster who was movin' that contraband
Damn, y'all niggas is sick
You bet' not hold your breath in this bitch

Pressin' the issue, new 'Vette, I'ma show you what the shit do
New TEC and it's military issue, see blood, so it definitely hit you
Ayy, Blood, what they do with all the tissue?
Pass around at the funeral, it's unusual
To see his opps standin' in the background, laugh now
No pat downs, I'm in here with the strap now

Blatt, blatt, blatt, brratt, it's a wrap, niggas ain't comin' back
It's a wrap, you can tell 'em, I said it
Nigga been dead and we still ain't dead it
And the whole block live, ten Glock .9s
Everybody on they lives, nigga
My team versus your team
They don't want a sofa, tell 'em take a dive, nigga

Black lives matter, don't they? But niggas kill niggas, won't they?
Pull up on the corner, leave you laid out
Next to the lady sellin' alote
It's "Gang gang" 'til it's time to roleplay
He was ballin' at a nigga, OJ
We in and out, and we ain't have to crochet
I'm a small criminal, Annie, are you okay?

I was robbin' niggas, I was jackin' for beats
I was bald head when my khakis creased
Jumpin' over fences, what the athletes feed?
I was onto Compton, I was packin' heat
Never met D-Wade yet, never hit the 101 Freeway yet
In the game but ain't say EA yet, Outkast ain't made 3K yet
I was in your house, like-



Credits
Writer(s): Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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