MY LETTER 2 STREET NIGGAZ 2023

(album: A Compton Story - 2023)

What's up funk, what's up groove
What's up hood, what's up gangsta
What's up lord, what's up folk
What's up homes, what's up gangsta

Shit is so different now, everybody different now
Homies turn to bitches now, same shower
Different tiles, exploring marble floors
While niggas squarer than kitchen towels, we can't
Talk much, my conversation too different now
Fuck the crown, nigga my motivation more different
Now, baby back up, would you act like that if my bitch was round
Drug and pussy ain't
Clouding a nigga vision now
Still hot boxing that Audi before I hit the party
P gon' be Who he be, huh, so act accordingly
My migo bought me a watch to offset the cardi, chachi
Chachi hit Compton in Maserati
Used to dream about it when them Christmases wasn't so jolly
When I would ball at Holly or Rowley up in Gardena
Or when niggas was shooting at my
First shows in Altadena
Or me and Dre was fucking on rat hoes in Carmelita's, or when
We fell out, when we both was fucking on Marquita
I found to get my green up, I'm from the same
City as Venus and Serena
I served back and forth off them cleaners off Alameda, on Jesus
Thank Nutty's for passes
I knew I surpassed him with riding in Bentley's with Glasses
In and out of hoods that's active with no incidents
Still move around like that, what A coincidence

What's up funk, what's up groove
What's up hood, what's up gangsta
What's up lord, what's up folk
What's up homes, what's up gangsta

What role y'all playing
Who y'all auditioning, fuck a hook, fuck a song
This reconditioning, they sendin keep me out
Emails, niggas petitioning
I come in rooms, niggas get to whispering, that's different
Now that's different, you can't stop what's meant for him
But don't be trying at my discipline
Cause all that fuck you up ratchet bullshit I was on
Guess what, that shit still lives in here
A lot of this I don't share much, I don't care much
The flow dirty, grab room, lift the chairs up
Start sweeping, I'm bussing, who beefing, just listen
I'm teaching, I'm preaching, no deacon

What's up funk, what's up groove
What's up hood, what's up gangsta
What's up lord, what's up folk
What's up homes, what's up gangsta

You niggas future still controlled by your past tense
That's why your mind still controlled by your last bitch
I tend to stay away from boys that
Be on that shit, that dick and pussy bus will have you in that casket
While I wake up early on
The mission to claim the money
The devil's most beautiful angel, it's funny the things niggas
Do to obtain you, turn a nigga that you've known
Your whole life to a stranger, every day it gets
Stranger, so I gotta move colder
Dream big like you young, cause every day you get older, I done
Gained some exposure, now they swear that they know
The son of Leona, that lived across the street
From them Colberts, doors open and close em
Real shit I condone it, no longer with it, if after I did it
Me and God is opponents and that's real
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, first thoughts that come to my
Mind when I hear the word Compton is home...