Kendrick Lamar – m.A.A.d city (feat. MC Eiht) Lyrics

Kendrick Lamar – m.A.A.d city (feat. MC Eiht) Lyrics
m.A.A.d city
Kendrick Lamar (feat. MC Eiht)
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    m.A.A.d city Album Art
    "m.A.A.d city." - Kendrick Lamar (feat. MC Eiht)

    Album: good kid, m.A.A.d city (Deluxe Version)
    Track No: 08
    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, ****?
    Fuck who you know, where you from, my ****?
    Where your grandma stay, huh, my ****?
    This m.A.A.d city I run, my ****
    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 weighin' on your brain
    It was me, L Boog, and Yan Yan, YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans
    It got ugly, wavin' yo' hand out the window, check yourself
    Uh, Warriors and Conans, hope euphoria can slow dance
    With society, the driver seat the first one to get killed
    Seen a light-skinned **** with his brains blown out
    At the same burger stand where **** hang out
    Now this is not a tape recorder sayin' 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 AKs, ARs, "Aye, y'all, duck!"
    That's what Momma said when we was eatin' that free lunch
    Aw man, goddamn, all hell broke loose
    You killed my cousin back in '94, fuck yo' truce
    Now crawl your head in that noose
    You wind up dead on the news
    Ain't no peace treaty, just piecin' BGs up to pre-approve
    Bodies on top of bodies, IVs on top of IVs
    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 callin' 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, ****?
    Fuck who you know, where you from, my ****?
    Where your grandma stay, huh, my ****?
    This m.A.A.d city I run, my ****
    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
    G-yeah, real simple and plain
    Let me teach you some lessons about the street
    Smoke somethin', ****
    Hood
    'Sup, Cuz?
    It ain't nothin' but a Compton thang
    G-yeah, how we do
    Fresh outta school 'cause I was a high school grad
    Sleepin' in the living room of my momma's pad
    Reality struck, I seen the white car crash
    Hit the light pole, two **** 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 leavin'
    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 ('Sup)
    Cocaine laced in marijuana
    And they wonder why I rarely smoke now
    Imagine if your first blunt had you foamin' at the mouth
    I was straight tweakin', the next weekend we broke even
    I made allegiance that made a promise to see you bleedin'
    You know the reasons but still will never know my life
    Kendrick, a.k.a. "Compton's Human Sacrifice"
    G-yeah, cocaine, weed
    **** been mixin' shit since the '80s, loc
    Sherm sticks, butt-nakeds
    Dip, make a **** flip
    Cluckheads all up and down the block and shit
    One time's crooked and shit
    Block a **** in
    Alondra, Rosecrans, Bullis, it's Compton
    I'm still in the hood, loc, yeah, that's cool (G-yeah)
    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 **** that rep colors is doin' the same thang
    Pass it to the left so I can smoke on me
    A couple drive-bys in the hood lately (G-yeah)
    Couple of IVs with the fuckin' spray-can
    Shots in the crowd, then everybody ran
    Crew I'm finna slay, the street life I crave
    Shots hit the enemy, hearts turn brave
    Mount up, regulators in the whip
    Down the boulevard with the pistol grip (G-yeah)
    Trip, we in the hood still
    So, loc, grab a strap 'cause G-yeah, it's so real (G-yeah)
    Deal with the outcome, a strap in the hand
    And a bird and ten grand's where a mothafucka stand
    If I told you I killed a **** at sixteen, would you believe me?
    Or see me to be innocent Kendrick you seen in the street
    With a basketball and some Now and 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 bein' 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 vandalizin' the option
    Of livin' a lie, drown their body with toxins
    Constantly drinkin' 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, USA
    Made me an Angel on Angel Dust, what?
    M.A.A.d city
    Compton
    ****, pass Dot the bottle, damn
    You ain't the one that got fucked up
    What you holdin' it for?
    **** always actin' unsensitive and shit
    ****, that ain't no word
    ****, shut up
    Hey, Dot, you good, my ****?
    Don't even trip
    Just lay back and drink that

    Writer(s): Kendrick Lamar, M. Spears, Ricci Riera, Axel Morgan & A. Tyler.

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