N.w.a. - Day Of Wayback lyrics

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' muthaf**as, 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. Muthaf**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 muthaf**in' Vietnam. Everybody k**in', tryin' to make a k**in', n***as stealin', muthaf**as 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 wanna make you think that it's a crack thang, Or a black thang Or some n***as in a muthaf**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 Muthaf**as had know If, yo, livin situations make you wanna get a gat... That's 'cause you livin' in the Dayz of Wayback...