m.A.A.d city

Album: Good Kid, M.A.A.D City (2012)
Charted: 75
  • If Pirus and Crips all got along
    They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
    Seem like the whole city go against me
    Every time I'm in the street I hear

    "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!"

    "Man down
    Where you from, nigga?"
    "Fuck who you know, where you from, my nigga?"
    "Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?"
    "This m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga"

    Brace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane
    This is not a rap on how I'm slingin crack or move cocaine
    This is cul-de-sac and plenty Cognac and major pain
    Not the drill sergeant, but the stress that weighing on your brain
    It was Me, O-Boog[?], and Yaya[?], YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans
    It got ugly, waving your hand out the window. Check yo self
    Uh, warriors and Conans
    Hope euphoria can slow dance with society
    The driver seat the first one to get killed
    Seen a light-skinned nigga with his brains blown out
    At the same burger stand where hang out
    Now this is not a tape recording saying that he did it
    But ever since that day, I was lookin at him different
    That was back when I was nine
    Joey packed the nine
    Pakistan on every porch is fine
    We adapt to crime, pack a van with four guns at a time
    With the sliding door, fuck is up?
    Fuck you shootin' for if you ain't walkin up you fuckin' punk?
    Pickin' up the fuckin' pump
    Pickin' off you suckers, suck a dick or die or sucker punch
    A wall of bullets comin' from
    AK's, AR's, "Aye y'all. Duck."
    That's what momma said when we was eatin the free lunch
    Aw man, God damn, all hell broke loose
    You killed my cousin back in '94. Fuck yo truce
    Now crawl yo head in that noose
    You wind up dead on the news
    Ain't no peace treaty, just pieces
    BG's up to pre-approve, bodies on top of bodies
    IV's on top of IV's
    Obviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys
    When you hop on that trolley
    Make sure your colors correct
    Make sure you're corporate, or they'll be calling your mother collect
    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 that you sleep with a Tec
    Go buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial, I guess
    M.A.A.d city

    "Man down
    Where you from, nigga?"
    "Fuck who you know, where you from, my nigga?"
    "Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?"
    "This m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga"

    If Pirus and Crips all got along
    They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
    Seem like the whole city go against me
    Every time I'm in the street I hear

    "Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!

    Wake yo punk ass up!
    It ain't nothin but a Compton thang
    Real simple and plain
    I'mma teach you some lessons about the street
    It ain't nothin but a Compton thang
    How we do

    Fresh outta school cause I was a high school grad
    Sleeping in the living room in 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
    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 because 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
    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

    Cocaine, weed
    Nigga's been mixing shit since the 80's loc
    Sherm sticks, butt nakeds
    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
    I'm still in the hood
    Loc yeah that's cool
    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 the hood lately
    Couple of IV's with the fucking spray can
    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
    Trip, we in the hood still
    So loc, grab a strap cause yeah, it's so real
    Deal with the outcome, a strap in the hand
    And a bird and ten grand's where motherfuckers stand

    If I told you I killed a nigga at 16, would you believe me?
    Or see me to be innocent Kendrick that 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 them all if they gossip, the Children of the Corn
    They realizing 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; this a coward, the concept is aim and
    They bang it and slide out that bitch with deposits
    And the 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 Writer/s: Mark Anthony Spears, Axel Morgan, Kendrick Duckworth, Ricci Riera
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind


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