What we gonna do right here is go back,
Now this is some sh** that's from the Dayz of Wayback,
When n***as in Compton first started to jack.
When the b**hes wouldn't give you no p**y if you wasn't sellin' drug,
So many b**hes in my neighborhood got mugged.
They always loved that sh**. They want a n***a 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 n***a that he lend me and
Start robbin' motherf**ers, just like cowboys and Indians.
Anything it took to get paid.
A n***a like Ren already had the plane made.
And I was in it to win it and not to lose.
And sh**, 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 b**h!
Now she's in a coffin and my life is better off and
'Cause everybody knows who's the bossin'
That black n***a that they call Ren.
You f** with me, you gotta f** 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 n***as was gettin' jacked.
In fact it was one I used to pa** through up,
And kickin' a** through up.
Motherf**in' Compton Ma**acre,
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 motherf**ing Vietnam.
Everybody k**in', tryin' to make a k**in',
n***as stealin', motherf**ers willin' to dealin'.
With so many ways to come up
The average n***a didn't give a f**
About another muthaf**a in this game and
Claimin' what he claimin',
Livin' like he livin',
k**in' after k**in'.
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 sh** is stolen
And you and your n***as start rollin'.
Yo, to get your sh** back ain't a word of.
Muff? It's more murder, more murder, more murder.
They want to make you think that it's a crack thang,
Or a black thing
Or some n***as in a motherf**in' gang,
But guns and money they go together like the Ku Klux Klan
A n***a brung up and strung up.
Why do I call myself a n***a you ask me?
Rememberin' the days that's past me,
Yo, never givin' n***as a chance to rest.
The ghetto is like a f**in' survival test.
And number one way for you to pa**,
Yo, get treated like a king and they'll crown your a**.
They never in the wrong though,
So I made a song so
Motherf**ers had know
If, yo, living situations make you want to get a gat
That's 'cause you livin' in the Dayz of Wayback