[Intro: loud booming voice that echoes]
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Comp-ton.. Comp-ton.. Comp-ton
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[quiet voice that whispers]
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Real Compton City G's...
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[Verse One: Eazy-E]
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Hey yo Doctor, here's another proper track
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and it's phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper
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And let that real shit provoke
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So youse a wannabe 'loc, and you'll get smoked, and I hope
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that your fans understand when you talk about playin me
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The same records that you makin is payin me
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Motherfuck Dre, Motherfuck Snoop, Motherfuck Death Row
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Yo, and here comes my left blow
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Cause I'm the E-A-Z-Y-E and, this is the season
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to let the real compton city G's in
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You're like a kid you found a pup and now you're dapper
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But tell me where da fuck ya found a anorexic rapper?
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Talkin about who you gon squabble with and who you shoot
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You're only 60 pounds when you're wet and wearin boots
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(Damn E, they tried to fade you on "Dre Day")
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But "Dre Day" only met Eazy's pay day
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All of a sudden Dr. Dre is the "G Thang"
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But on his old album cover he was a she thang
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So nigga please, nigga please, don't step to deez
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motherfuckin real compton city G's!
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"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
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"Boy you should have known by now.."
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"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
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"Boy you should have known by now.."
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[Verse Two: Dresta]
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Everyday it's a new rapper, claimin to be dapper than the Dresta
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Softer than a bitch, but portray the role of gangsta
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Ain't broke a law in your life
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Yet every time you rap you yap about the guns and knife
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Just take a good look at the, nigga and you'll capture
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the fact that the bastard, is simply just an actor
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who mastered the bang and the slang and the mental
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of niggaz in Compton, Watts, and South Central
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Never ever once have you ran with the turf
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But yet in every verse claim you used to do the dirt
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But tell me who's a witness, to your fuckin work
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So you never had no bi'ness, so save the drama jerk
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Niggaz straight kill me, knowin that they pranksters
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This is going out to you studio gangstas
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See I did dirt, put in work, and many niggaz can vouch that
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So since I got stripes, I got the right to rap about that!
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But niggaz like you, I gotta hate ya
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Cause I'm just tired of suburbian niggaz talkin about they come from projects
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Knowin, you ain't seen the parts of the streets G
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Think you started tryin to bang around the time of the peace treaty
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Wearin khakis and mob while you rhyme
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Little fag, tried to sag, but you're floodin at the same, time
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And your set don't accept ya
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Scared to kick it with your homies cuz you know they don't respect ya
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So nigga please, check nuts before ya step to deez
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motherfuckin real G's
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[Verse Three: B.G. Knocc Out]
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Welllllllll.. it's the Knocc Out, definition orginal baby gangsta
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Approach me like you hard, motherfucker I'ma bank ya
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Shank ya, with my fuckin shank, if I haveta
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Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg are fuckin actors
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Pranksters, studio gangstas, busters
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But this time you're dealin with some real motherfuckers
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G's, nigga please, don't try to step
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cause if you do, then a pealed cap is all that would be left
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See young niggaz like me, will break ya off somthin
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Claimin my city, but Dre you ain't from Compton
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Niggaz like y'all is what I call wannabeez
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and ain't shit compared to real mother fucking city G's
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"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
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[Verse Four: Eazy-E]
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I never met a O.G., who never did shit wrong
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You tried to diss the Eazy-E, so now nigga it's on
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You and your Doggy Dogg, think that y'all hoggin shit
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Both of you bitches, can come and suck my doggy dick
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Beatin up a bitch don't make you shit, but then again
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some niggaz think it makes a man
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Damn it's a trip how a nigga could switch so quick
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from wearin lipstick, to smokin on chronic at pic-nics
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And now you think you're bigger
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But to me you ain't nothin but a bitch-ass nigga
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that ain't worth a food stamp
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And at Death Row, I hear you're gettin treated like boot camp
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Gotta follow your sergeant's directions
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Or get your ass pumped with a Smith & Wesson
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Learn a less |