fuck (new) nwa

Uh, this is, uh, my name, excuse me, my name is Bob
And I’m a reporter from one of the newest hip-hop magazines
And I just wanted to ask you, Dresta, uh, uh
Could you just give me your comments on
How do you feel about the new NWA situation?

NWA? Well, personally, homie, you know
Bein' from, bein' from Compton and bein' a real rider?
I would’ve preferred to see Eiht or Quik or somebody
You know what I mean? They kept it real

So how the fuck can they say N.W.A. without E
Ice Cube, Ren, Tomica and Dre, your killing me
Ain’t none of y'all motherfuckers asked us shit
Gettin' rich yellin', Compton!, ain’t passed us shit
When the last time you hung on the block? Nigga, admit it
When Eazy was living none of you bitch niggas was with it
Now he dead and he gone and you niggas is dead wrong
But Dresta won't let the public get led wrong
Remember Snoop Dogg told E to suck dick
Now you giving this nigga his money you punk bitch
What the fuck? My nigga probably turnin' over drastic
If you ain’t already dug him up and sold the gold casket
You niggas plastic, it’s a motherfuckin' pity
Done had twenty artists, not one from the city
For busters that get mad, here's my 2000 motto
Talkin' junk, you’ll get your number punched like the lotto
Full throttle, from the (city of Compton)

Fuck N.W. a
And I say fuck N.W. a
And you say fuck N.W. a
And we say fuck N.W. a

You see I once was a thug from around the way
But now I lounge and I blow a quarter pound a day
The most smoked out and definitely loc’d out
First rapper flapping his gums is getting chocked out
On a mission to destroy the whole existence of marks
From the start you cowards knew Compton had heart
Up west and back east and down south, the gangsta's back
And this is my motherfucking house
So you niggas best to run and retreat
Cuz for this new millennium, I'm here to gun and delete
I hear niggas is running around saying you got the crown
But bitch we never lost it, so backup off it
That's why you rich niggas come and get jacked
You're bitch niggas so us thugs gotta run in your scratch
Catch you running in packs, just put the guns in your backs and tell ya
Take off the Rolies and pass me the chain stolies
Fo'sho-li
We're still real in the (city of Compton)

It’s no good man
Word on the streets is niggas ain’t feelin' that shit
You know what I’m sayin'? Hey! This BG D-Dog from West Side Nuttyz
It’s like this. Tomica, fuck you!

Yo, my Brooklyn niggas ain’t feelin' that reunion shit

Well, there you have it
Looks like on the streets it’s a, a vote ‘no’ on that new NWA

You know I want the whole world to know how many of my homies they've slain
From Eazy-E to 2Pac, and Baby Lane
Little Jerry, now I gotta carry the whole thing
It's a cold game, no things change I maintain
I learned to be a G way back in '83
Been down ever since, real niggas represent
Compton gave you all life when y'all had nothing to do
And told you Fuck Tha Police when they was fucking with you
I was sprung since I was young, I hit the sticky once
Then ran to the candy store to get a ticket punched
From coast to coast, none of you rappers pose threat
And you bitches best to treat us with the utmost respect
It's the C.P.T. for the Y2D
Right back nigga easily, it's 1, 2, 3
They locked my brother down but I ain't never gonna forget him
Cuz I love B.G. knocc Out and every nigga down with him
Still down' with him, in the (city of Compton)

Compton motherfucker
Eazy-E R-I-P