Tonalité : A minor•
Verse 1
Bm
D
Bbm
Am
If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down
D
Am
by the end of this song
D
Am
D
Seem like the whole city go against me
Am
Every time I'm in the street I hear
Verse 2
"Yawk! Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!"
Am
A
Am
"Man down
A
Am
Where you from, nigga?"
G#m
A
G#m
"Fuck who you know, where you from,
C#m
my nigga?"
A
Am
"Where your grandma stay,
G#m
Am
huh, my nigga?"
A
Am
"This m.A.A.d city I run,
C#
my nigga"
Verse 3
G#m
G#
A
Brace yourself, I'll take you on
G#m
Am
a trip down memory lane
G#
A
This is not a rap on how I'm slingin
G#
G#m
Am
crack or move cocaine
A
Am
This is cul-de-sac and and and
plenty Cognac and major pain
Bbm
Am
Not the drill sergeant,
but the stress that weighing on your brain
Bbm
It was me, L Boog, and Yan Yan,
Am
YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans
Bbm
Am
Bbm
Am
It got ugly, waving your hand out the window,
check yo self
Abm
Am
Uh, Warriors and Conans
G#m
A
Hope euphoria can slow
dance with society
Am
The driver seat the first one to get killed
Seen a light-skinned nigga nigga
A
with his brains blown out
Am
A
At the same burger stand where-,
Am
hang out
Now this is not a tape re
A
C#m
A
Am
cording saying that he did it
But ever since that day,
I was lookin' at him different
That was back when I was nine
G#m
Joey packed the nine
A
G#m
Pakistan on every porch is fine
A
G#m
We adapt to crime,
Am
A
G#m
Am
pack a van with four guns at a time
A
G#m
A
With the sliding door, fuck is up?
G#m
A
Fuck you shootin' for if you ain't
G#m
Am
A
walkin up you fuckin' punk?
G#m
Am
Pickin' up the fuckin' pump
G#m
A
Pickin' off you suckers,
G#m
A
suck a dick or die or sucker punch
G#m
A
A wall of bullets comin'
Am
from
A
Ak's, AR's, "Aye y'all. Duck"
Am
That's what momma said when
A
Am
we was eatin' that free lunch
A
Aw man, God damn, all hell broke loose
Am
You killed my cousin back in
'94, fuck yo' truce
G#m
Now crawl yo' head in that noose
A
You wind up dead on the news
G#m
Ain't no peace treaty, just piecin'
Bgs up to pre-approve,
Am
A
Am
A
bodies bodies on top of bodies
G#m
A
Iv's on top of IV's
C#m
G#m
A
Obviously the coroner between
Am
the sheets like the Isleys
G#m
When you hop on that trolley
Am
A
Make sure your color's correct
Am
A
Make sure you're corporate,
Am
or they'll be calling your mother collect
A
Am
They say the governor collect,
all of our taxes except
When we in traffic and tragic happens,
that shit ain't no threat
You movin' backwards if you suggest
A
that you sleep with a TEC
Am
Go buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial,
A
Am
I guess
Verse 4
m.A.A.d city
A
Am
"Man down
A
Am
Where you from, nigga?"
A
G#m
"Fuck who you know, where you from,
A
Am
A
my nigga?"
C#m
A
Am
"Where your grandma stay,
G#m
Am
A
huh, my nig ga?"
Am
A
Am
"This m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga"
Verse 5
Am
Bbm
Am
If Pirus and Crips all got along
A
They'd probably gun me down
Am
A
Am
A
by the end of this song
C#m
A
Seem like the whole city go against me
Am
Every time I'm in the street I hear
"Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!
Verse 6
Am
Wake yo' punk ass up!
It ain't nothin but a Compton thang
Chyea
Real simple and plain
"Let me teach you some lessons
about the street
(Smoke somethin', nigga)
Hood ('sup, cuz? Wassup? Nah,
nah, nah, fuck that, nah)
Ain't nothin but a Compton
thang
Chyea (we got five on it)
How we do
Verse 7
Am
Fresh outta school 'cause I
was a high school grad
Sleeping in the living room
of my momma's pad
Reality struck I seen the white car crash
Hit the light pole two nigga's hopped out
on foot and dashed (watch out cuz)
My Pops said I needed a job
I thought I believed him
Security guard for a month
and ended up leaving
In fact I got fired 'cause I was inspired
by all of my friends
To stage a robbery the third
Saturday I clocked in
Projects tore up,
gang signs get thrown up (wassup?)
Cocaine laced in marijuana
And they wonder why
I rarely smoke now
Imagine if your first blunt had
you foaming at the mouth
I was straight tweaking the next
weekend we broke even
I made allegiance that made a promise
to see you bleeding
You know the reasons but still
won't ever know my life
Kendrick AKA Compton's human
sacrifice (yeah)
Verse 8
Am
Cocaine, weed
Nigga's been mixing shit since
the 80's, loc
Sherm sticks, butt-nakeds, dip
Make a nigga flip
Cluck heads all up and down
the block and shit
One time's crooked and shit
Block a nigga in
Alondra, Rosecrans,
Bullis, it's Compton
Verse 9
Am
I'm still in the hood
Loc yeah that's cool (chyea)
The hood took me under so
I follow the rules
But yeah that's like me,
I grew up in the hood where they bang
And niggas that rep colors is
doing the same thing
Pass it to the left so I can
smoke on me
A couple drive-bys in in the
hood lately (chyea)
Couple of IV's with
the fucking spray-can
Shots Shots in the crowd
then everybody ran
Crew I'm finna slay,
the street life I crave
Shots hit the enemy, harsh turn brave
Mount up regulators in the whip
Down the boulevard with
the pistol grip (chyea)
Trip, we in the hood still
So loc, grab a strap 'cause chyeah, it's
Dm
Am
so real (chyea)
Deal with the outcome, a strap in the hand
And a bird and ten grand's
where motherfuckers stand
Verse 10
Am
If I told you I killed a nigga at sixteen,
would you believe me?
Or see me to be innocent Kendrick
you seen in the street
With a basketball and some Now
& Laters to eat
If I mentioned all of my skeletons,
would you jump in the seat?
Would you say my intelligence
now is great relief?
And it's safe to say that our
next generation maybe can sleep
With dreams of being
a lawyer or doctor
Instead of boy with a chopper
that hold the cul de sac hostage
Kill 'em all if they gossip,
the Children of the Corn
They vandalizing the option of living a lie,
drown their body with toxins
Constantly drinking and drive,
hit the powder then watch this flame
That arrive in his eye,
listen coward, the concept
Is aim and then bang it and slide
out that bitch with deposit
A price on his head,
the tithes probably go to the projects, I
Live inside the belly of the rough
Compton, U.S.A. Made me an angel on angel dust,
what? (Compton)
Verse 11
Am
m.A.A.d city
Verse 12
Compton
Am
Nigga, pass Dot the bottle,
damn
You ain't the one that got fucked
up
What you holdin' it for?
Niggas always actin'
unsensitive and shit
Nigga, that ain't no word
Nigga, shut up
Hey, Dot, you good, my nigga?
Don't even trip
Just lay back and drink that
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