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What we gonna do right here is go back...
Now this is some s**t that's from the Dayz of Wayback,
When in Compton first started to jack.
When the girls wouldn't give you no p*ssy if you wasn't sellin' drug,
So many girls in my neighborhood got mugged.
They always loved that s**t. They want a nigg* 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 nigg* that he lend me and
Start robbin' muth*fkas, just like cowboys and indians.
Anything it took to get paid.
A nigg* like Ren already had the plane made.
And I was in it to win it and not to lose.
And s**t, 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*tch!
Now she's in a coffin and my life is better off and
'Cause everybody knows who's the bossin':
That black nigg* that they call Ren.
You fk with me, you gotta fk 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 was gettin' jacked.
In fact it was one I used to pass through up,
And kickin' as* through up.
muth*fkin' Compton Massacre...
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 muth*fkin' Vietnam.
Everybody killin', tryin' to make a killin',
stealin', muth*fkas willin' to dealin'.
With so many ways to come up
The average nigg* didn't give a fk
About another muth*fka in this game and
Claimin' what he claimin',
Livin' like he livin',
Killin' after killin'.
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 s**t is stolen
And you and your start rollin'.
Yo, to get your s**t back ain't a word of.
muf*? 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 in a muth*fkin' gang...
But guns and money they go together like the Ku Klux Klan
A nigg* brung up and strung up.
Why do I call myself a nigg* you ask me?
Rememberin' the days that's past me...
Yo, never givin' a chance to rest.
The ghetto is like a fkin' survival test.
And number one way for you to pass,
Yo, get treated like a king and they'll crown your ass.
They never in the wrong though,
So I made a song so
muth*fkas had know
If, yo, livin situations make you wanna get a gat...
That's 'cause you livin' in the Dayz of Wayback...