King T - The Chronic 2001 lyrics

[MC Ren] Yeah n***a, MC Ren up in this motherf**er (West West y'all) Yeah, L.A. n***as L.A. n***as rule the world n***a Y'all n***as gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin? n***as don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin? But this sh** come all the way back around here My n***a Dre, droppin heat box on y'all b**h-a** Yaknahmsayin? You gotta recognize L.A. n***as, connected all over the motherf**in world, n***a Recognize this [Time Bomb] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag G'd from the feet up Blued up from the sewer's how I grew up Loc'n, smokin and drinkin til we threw up (threw up) At Leimert Park, taggin, hittin fools up Ditchin my cla**, just to f** yo' school up You don't wanna blast, n***a tuck yo' tool up But don't sleep, y'all n***as quick to shoot you Now there's another motherf**er with no future But Time Bomb much smoother when I manuever, dope like Cuba Got em jumpin {*King T starts speakin, indecipherable*} [King T] I'm comin "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin wit Tha Liks And Hittman bought a fix Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this b**h Here it tick tick tick tick {*BOOM*} Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic Weed and c**aine sold seperate, check it From sundown to sunup -- clown done run up The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, n***a what? Chorus: Knoc-Turn'al, Kokane We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat Requirements for survival each day -- in L.A.! It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops an*lyze why we act this way -- in L.A.! [Hittman] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move They call me Hitt - cause I spit like gats do co*k me back Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true But I grew up where n***as jack you, hara** you Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?) Mash on you for your turkish chain, C.K. B.K Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang I helped n***as get, jacked for they Dana Dane's My pants hang below my waistline I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah yeah) I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline Don't waste my time f** a scrap in k**a Cali, AK's and 9's One-time's, sunshines, and fine-a** b**hes Hawaiian thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches [Xzibit] I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF' Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood Slugs for the f** of it Anybody hatin on us can s** a dick If I catch you touchin mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor Better than yours, drivin away gettin head from a who*e It's AvireX-to-the-Z f**in with me might get you banned from TV Ca**ette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health Like puttin a pistol up to your face and blastin yourself [Defari] Five in the mornin, burglars at my do' Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer Let em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll Roll with n***as, who by fifths by the fo' And bruise by the case SLAP YOU in the face with the ba**, Dr. Dre laced Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings Chorus [Outro] In L.A That's how we ride (4X)