King Tee - Ya Better Bring A Gun Lyrics
[ verse 1: king tee ]They live on the street and they hustle for fameSome kill for a livin, some sling cocaineBecause its now a lifestyle and a full-time jobAnd if you live in compton, its like at mccobbFrom block to block everybodys badAnd if you dont know where youre at, then your lifes been hadCause they walk in the street with intentions to meetSome sappy lookin punk with fila on his feetAnd if you try to act tough, well mr. tough, youre throughCause everybodys a family, if not, theyre a crewIm here to give some advice advice (run!)Cause if youre ever in compton, you better bring a gunYo, here come my homeboy mixmaster spadeMan, whats up, man?Hey man, aint you from compton, man?(ah yeah)Alright man, tell em whats up, manWhat you used to do[ verse 2: mixmaster spade ]I used to cut up the beat on the two turntablesNow Im rappin on the mic, cause Im willin and ableWhen Im on the mic I take no slackAnd everytime that you see me Im tearin a gatI got .380s and .22sYou messs with me, Im gonna bust on youI got a .357 and a m-16They call me master spade, and tees the kingNow compton is the city where the homeboys stayRollin in a different car everydayCant roll too hard, gotta watch my backCause if I dont, I just might get jackedNow compton is a city of a lotta fun(cant walk down the street(cant walk down the streetCant walk down the stree without my gun)[ female voice ]Now you know this just dont make no kinda sense[ verse 3: king tee ]Now the next place is kinda risky if youre walkin with your motherYall can get shot if she wears the wrong colorTheyre all from the old school, nobodys modernThe place Im talkin bout is the nickerson gardensYou can get away with murder, cause they murdered the copsCause they said they tried to run a bumrush on wattsBut they took control, slingers walk real tallWhile real down gangbangers write their set on the wallIf I was you I wouldnt visit here, its like hellAnd if you get robbed, who you gonna tell?Im only here for advice advice (run!)And if youre ever in watts, you better bring a gun[ verse 4: king tee ]Now you got a nice car with a brand-new paintinRag top convertable with all-gold daytonsYou decide to take a ride down the crenshaw stripYou stop at the fat burgers to feed your lipYou got your sounds bumpin, playin zapp and vibeA skeezer comes your way, you say, lets take a rideSo youre cruisin crenshaw with her, youre goin to bailA brown cutlass pulls up, they put a gauge to your headThey say, (get our your car) if you value your life(and leave your money) if you love your wifeNow youre standin in the street lookin like youre on crackAnd you say to yourself: I cant believe I got jackedYou call the police because your car they stoleBut when you get in touch with them, they put you on holdYour car is gone, nothin could be doneSo next time you cruise crenshaw, you better bring a gun!Alright, I wanna thank mixmaster spade for comin out to rock with me(and greg mack) the mack attackAnd I also wanna thank j-ro and sweet tooth for comin out rockin(and dj [name])And I wanna thank scotty d, cold-crush chrisAnd dj pooh, the hip-hop gangster(when he say beat em up he dont be bluffin)WordAnd oh yeah, I forgot somebodyUnknown!(yo manWho blew up that mcdonalds on central and rosecrans, du? )
