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[ verse 1: king tee ]

They live on the street and they hustle for fame

Some kill for a livin, some sling cocaine

Because its now a lifestyle and a full-time job

And if you live in compton, its like at mccobb

From block to block everybodys bad

And if you dont know where youre at, then your lifes been had

Cause they walk in the street with intentions to meet

Some sappy lookin punk with fila on his feet

And if you try to act tough, well mr. tough, youre through

Cause everybodys a family, if not, theyre a crew

Im here to give some advice advice (run!)

Cause if youre ever in compton, you better bring a gun



Yo, here come my homeboy mixmaster spade

Man, whats up, man?

Hey man, aint you from compton, man?

(ah yeah)

Alright man, tell em whats up, man

What you used to do



[ verse 2: mixmaster spade ]

I used to cut up the beat on the two turntables

Now Im rappin on the mic, cause Im willin and able

When Im on the mic I take no slack

And everytime that you see me Im tearin a gat

I got .380s and .22s

You messs with me, Im gonna bust on you

I got a .357 and a m-16

They call me master spade, and tees the king

Now compton is the city where the homeboys stay

Rollin in a different car everyday

Cant roll too hard, gotta watch my back

Cause if I dont, I just might get jacked

Now compton is a city of a lotta fun

(cant walk down the street

(cant walk down the street

Cant walk down the stree without my gun)



[ female voice ]

Now you know this just dont make no kinda sense



[ verse 3: king tee ]

Now the next place is kinda risky if youre walkin with your mother

Yall can get shot if she wears the wrong color

Theyre all from the old school, nobodys modern

The place Im talkin bout is the nickerson gardens

You can get away with murder, cause they murdered the cops

Cause they said they tried to run a bumrush on watts

But they took control, slingers walk real tall

While real down gangbangers write their set on the wall

If I was you I wouldnt visit here, its like hell

And if you get robbed, who you gonna tell?

Im only here for advice advice (run!)

And if youre ever in watts, you better bring a gun



[ verse 4: king tee ]

Now you got a nice car with a brand-new paintin

Rag top convertable with all-gold daytons

You decide to take a ride down the crenshaw strip

You stop at the fat burgers to feed your lip

You got your sounds bumpin, playin zapp and vibe

A skeezer comes your way, you say, "lets take a ride"

So youre cruisin crenshaw with her, youre goin to bail

A brown cutlass pulls up, they put a gauge to your head

They say, "(get our your car) if you value your life

(and leave your money) if you love your wife"

Now youre standin in the street lookin like youre on crack

And you say to yourself: I cant believe I got jacked

You call the police because your car they stole

But when you get in touch with them, they put you on hold

Your car is gone, nothin could be done

So next time you cruise crenshaw, you better bring a gun!



Alright, I wanna thank mixmaster spade for comin out to rock with me

(and greg mack) the mack attack

And I also wanna thank j-ro and sweet tooth for comin out rockin

(and dj [name])

And I wanna thank scotty d, cold-crush chris

And dj pooh, the hip-hop gangster

(when he say beat em up he dont be bluffin)

Word

And oh yeah, I forgot somebody

Unknown!



(yo man

Who blew up that mcdonalds on central and rosecrans, du? )

[ verse 1: king tee ]

They live on the street and they hustle for fame

Some kill for a livin, some sling cocaine

Because its now a lifestyle and a full-time job

And if you live in compton, its like at mccobb

From block to block everybodys bad

And if you dont know where youre at, then your lifes been had

Cause they walk in the street with intentions to meet

Some sappy lookin punk with fila on his feet

And if you try to act tough, well mr. tough, youre through

Cause everybodys a family, if not, theyre a crew

Im here to give some advice advice (run!)

Cause if youre ever in compton, you better bring a gun



Yo, here come my homeboy mixmaster spade

Man, whats up, man?

Hey man, aint you from compton, man?

(ah yeah)

Alright man, tell em whats up, man

What you used to do



[ verse 2: mixmaster spade ]

I used to cut up the beat on the two turntables

Now Im rappin on the mic, cause Im willin and able

When Im on the mic I take no slack

And everytime that you see me Im tearin a gat

I got .380s and .22s

You messs with me, Im gonna bust on you

I got a .357 and a m-16

They call me master spade, and tees the king

Now compton is the city where the homeboys stay

Rollin in a different car everyday

Cant roll too hard, gotta watch my back

Cause if I dont, I just might get jacked

Now compton is a city of a lotta fun

(cant walk down the street

(cant walk down the street

Cant walk down the stree without my gun)



[ female voice ]

Now you know this just dont make no kinda sense



[ verse 3: king tee ]

Now the next place is kinda risky if youre walkin with your mother

Yall can get shot if she wears the wrong color

Theyre all from the old school, nobodys modern

The place Im talkin bout is the nickerson gardens

You can get away with murder, cause they murdered the cops

Cause they said they tried to run a bumrush on watts

But they took control, slingers walk real tall

While real down gangbangers write their set on the wall

If I was you I wouldnt visit here, its like hell

And if you get robbed, who you gonna tell?

Im only here for advice advice (run!)

And if youre ever in watts, you better bring a gun



[ verse 4: king tee ]

Now you got a nice car with a brand-new paintin

Rag top convertable with all-gold daytons

You decide to take a ride down the crenshaw strip

You stop at the fat burgers to feed your lip

You got your sounds bumpin, playin zapp and vibe

A skeezer comes your way, you say, "lets take a ride"

So youre cruisin crenshaw with her, youre goin to bail

A brown cutlass pulls up, they put a gauge to your head

They say, "(get our your car) if you value your life

(and leave your money) if you love your wife"

Now youre standin in the street lookin like youre on crack

And you say to yourself: I cant believe I got jacked

You call the police because your car they stole

But when you get in touch with them, they put you on hold

Your car is gone, nothin could be done

So next time you cruise crenshaw, you better bring a gun!



Alright, I wanna thank mixmaster spade for comin out to rock with me

(and greg mack) the mack attack

And I also wanna thank j-ro and sweet tooth for comin out rockin

(and dj [name])

And I wanna thank scotty d, cold-crush chris

And dj pooh, the hip-hop gangster

(when he say beat em up he dont be bluffin)

Word

And oh yeah, I forgot somebody

Unknown!



(yo man

Who blew up that mcdonalds on central and rosecrans, du? )

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