Just like a prisoner, because I'm brown with some black skin A fugitive, running cause I just won't give in And its hard when it's black on black Gotta blast another brother trying to scheme on my stack For me to be a busta, oh no Police is hunting a brother like an animal So I play my cards right, watch my back Because the enemy is scheming, trying to kick a rat pack Straight up, a gangsta, ain't got time for faking Label me a pusher, dead presidents I'm making A brother who's young, got the neighborhood sprung Police riding my tip, if they catch me I'm hung But no, I don't sleep as they creep. Take a peep out the scene Cause they trying to stop the flow of my green So I keep stepping, and bailing hard because a brother is up on it Catch me if you can cause fool, Eiht is wanted I lace up my kicks, because a brother's on the run Chase me down with a gun, because my lyrics weigh a ton Now I'm sweating cause you're sweating me big time Hang me up by a rope for my murder rhyme No shorts given, that's how I'm living in the ninety-one Slide my car in, and smoking with my Mike gun Pop off two lyrics so they can slack up If it gets too deep Mike's got the back up Packin' tools, droppin' fools, I'm from Compton So that should be your first rule Here comes the pick of the weak, so don't sneak If you do, Eiht'll take two to your cheek So don't get uptight if you a victim Got a gang of gangsta rhymes so let me kick em Geah, I can't be stopped, cause I'm up on it And a brother like Eiht's still wanted So now I break faster, not because I want to, cause I got ta Now your homies after me because I grabbed my mike and shot a- Nother sucker dead, lyrics straight to your head Cannot bite, no. The Compton psycho Quick on the gank, so you might get shanked And I don't need a gat just to jack your bank Another stick-up kid just got crazy Try to double cross the Eiht you'll be pushing up daisies Or you can get the backwash From the forty that's poured on the ground, so I clown So your mad, but your bad and you press your luck But you still wanna nag, yeah you'll get stuck So who's got the Compton funk? And it's illegal if you bump it too loud in your trunk So now you know that Eiht's your top rap dealer But you a punk ass New Jack squealer That's why I'm wanted The odds against me. So now its time to break Seconds tick off the clock so I don't fake I gots to keep on steppin', don't run outta breath Cause if I slow down punk it might spell death I confuse the mark, throw him off the trail This ain't no picnic punk you picked hell Better known as Rambro, not afraid Mike T starts the gat, Eiht's a hand grenade And who's got the four-one-one? Just can't do me punk your getting done Eiht is the nigga eating them up Yeah that's my cue so I start kicking but And you don't want to witness the Compton rage Trapped just like a rat in a snake cage Boy you dis the crew, geah you flaunt it Now I hunt you down because your wanted © MUSIC CORPORATION OF AMERICA; BRIGHT LIGHT MUSIC INC; GRANDMA'S HANDS MUSIC; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com