689
Intro: [loud booming voice that echoes]
Comp-ton.. Comp-ton.. Comp-ton
[quiet voice that whispers]
Real motherfuckin G's...
Real motherfuckin G's...
Real motherfuckin G's...
[Verse One: Eazy-E]
Hey yo Doctor, here's another proper track
and it's phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper
And let
that real shit provoke
So youse a wannabe 'loc, and you'll get smoked, and I hope
that your fans understand when you talk about playin me
The same records that you makin is payin me
Motherfuck Dre, Motherfuck Snoop, Motherfuck Death Row
Yo, and here comes my left blow
Cause I'm the E-A-Z-Y-E and, this is the season
to let the real motherfuckin G's in
You're like a kid you found a pup and now you're dapper
But tell me where the fuck ya found a anorexic
rapper?
Talkin about who you gon squabble with and who you shoot
You're only 60 pounds when you're wet and wearin boots
(Damn E, they tried to fade you on "Dre Day")
But "Dre Day" only make Eazy's pay day
All of a sudden Dr. Dre is the "G Thang"
But on his old album cover he was a she thang
So nigga please, nigga please, don't step to deez
motherfuckin real G's!
(Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless)
"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
"Boy
you should have known.."
[Verse Two: Dresta]
Everyday it's a new rapper, claimin to be dapper than the Dresta
Softer than a bitch, but portray the role of gangsta
Ain't broke a law in your life
Yet every time you rap you yap about the guns and knife
Just take a good look at the, nigga and you'll capture
the fact that the bastard, is simply just an actor
who mastered the bang and the slang and the mental
of niggaz in Compton, Watts, and South Central
Never ever once have you ran with the turf
But yet in every verse claim you used to do the dirt
But tell me who's a witness, to your fuckin work
So you never had no bi'ness, so save the drama jerk
Niggaz straight kill me, knowin that they pranksters
This is going out to you studio gangstas
See I did dirt, put in work, and many niggaz can vouch that
So since I got stripes, I got the right to rap about that!
But niggaz like you, I gotta hate ya
Cause I'm just
tired of suburbian niggaz talkin about they come from projects
Knowin, you ain't seen the parts of the streets G
Think you started tryin to bang around the time of the peace treaty
Wearin khakis and mob while you rhyme
Little fag, tried to sag, but you're floodin at the same, time
And your set don't accept ya
Scared to kick it with your homies cuz you know they don't respect ya
So nigga please, check nuts before ya step to deez
motherfuckin real G's
[Verse
Three: B.G. Knocc Out]
Welllllllll.. it's the Knocc Out, definition original baby gangsta
Approach me like you hard, motherfucker I'ma bank ya
Shank ya, with my fuckin shank, if I haveta
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg are fuckin actors
Pranksters, studio gangstas, busters
But this time you're dealin with some real motherfuckers
G's, nigga please, don't try to step
cause if you do, then a pealed cap is all that would be left
See young niggaz like me, will break
ya off somthin
Claimin my city, but Dre you ain't from Compton
Niggaz like y'all is what I call wannabeez
and ain't shit compared to real motherfuckin G's
(Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless)
"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
[Verse Four: Eazy-E]
I never met a O.G., who never did shit wrong
You tried to diss the Eazy-E, so now nigga it's on
You and your Doggy Dogg, think that y'all hoggin shit
Both of you bitches, can come and suck my
doggy dick
Beatin up a bitch don't make you shit, but then again
some niggaz think it makes a man
Damn it's a trip how a nigga could switch so quick
from wearin lipstick, to smokin on chronic at pic-nics
And now you think you're bigger
But to me you ain't nothin but a bitch-ass nigga
that ain't worth a food stamp
And at Death Row, I hear you're gettin treated like boot camp
Gotta follow your sergeant's directions
Or get your ass pumped with a Smith &
Wesson
Learn a lesson from the E's
Stay in your place and don't step to real motherfuckin G's!
(Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless)
"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
"Boy you should have known by now.."
(Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless)
"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
"Boy you should have known by now.."
(Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless)
"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
"Boy you should have known
by now.."
(Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless)
"Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*}
"Boy you should have known by now; Eazy-Duz-It"
689
Intro: [loud booming voice that echoes] Comp-ton.. Comp-ton.. Comp-ton [quiet voice that whispers] Real motherfuckin G's... Real motherfuckin G's... Real motherfuckin G's... [Verse One: Eazy-E] Hey yo Doctor, here's another proper track and it's phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper And let that real shit provoke So youse a wannabe 'loc, and you'll get smoked, and I hope that your fans understand when you talk about playin me The same records that you makin is payin me Motherfuck Dre, Motherfuck Snoop, Motherfuck Death Row Yo, and here comes my left blow Cause I'm the E-A-Z-Y-E and, this is the season to let the real motherfuckin G's in You're like a kid you found a pup and now you're dapper But tell me where the fuck ya found a anorexic rapper? Talkin about who you gon squabble with and who you shoot You're only 60 pounds when you're wet and wearin boots (Damn E, they tried to fade you on "Dre Day") But "Dre Day" only make Eazy's pay day All of a sudden Dr. Dre is the "G Thang" But on his old album cover he was a she thang So nigga please, nigga please, don't step to deez motherfuckin real G's! (Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless) "Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*} "Boy you should have known.." [Verse Two: Dresta] Everyday it's a new rapper, claimin to be dapper than the Dresta Softer than a bitch, but portray the role of gangsta Ain't broke a law in your life Yet every time you rap you yap about the guns and knife Just take a good look at the, nigga and you'll capture the fact that the bastard, is simply just an actor who mastered the bang and the slang and the mental of niggaz in Compton, Watts, and South Central Never ever once have you ran with the turf But yet in every verse claim you used to do the dirt But tell me who's a witness, to your fuckin work So you never had no bi'ness, so save the drama jerk Niggaz straight kill me, knowin that they pranksters This is going out to you studio gangstas See I did dirt, put in work, and many niggaz can vouch that So since I got stripes, I got the right to rap about that! But niggaz like you, I gotta hate ya Cause I'm just tired of suburbian niggaz talkin about they come from projects Knowin, you ain't seen the parts of the streets G Think you started tryin to bang around the time of the peace treaty Wearin khakis and mob while you rhyme Little fag, tried to sag, but you're floodin at the same, time And your set don't accept ya Scared to kick it with your homies cuz you know they don't respect ya So nigga please, check nuts before ya step to deez motherfuckin real G's [Verse Three: B.G. Knocc Out] Welllllllll.. it's the Knocc Out, definition original baby gangsta Approach me like you hard, motherfucker I'ma bank ya Shank ya, with my fuckin shank, if I haveta Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg are fuckin actors Pranksters, studio gangstas, busters But this time you're dealin with some real motherfuckers G's, nigga please, don't try to step cause if you do, then a pealed cap is all that would be left See young niggaz like me, will break ya off somthin Claimin my city, but Dre you ain't from Compton Niggaz like y'all is what I call wannabeez and ain't shit compared to real motherfuckin G's (Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless) "Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*} [Verse Four: Eazy-E] I never met a O.G., who never did shit wrong You tried to diss the Eazy-E, so now nigga it's on You and your Doggy Dogg, think that y'all hoggin shit Both of you bitches, can come and suck my doggy dick Beatin up a bitch don't make you shit, but then again some niggaz think it makes a man Damn it's a trip how a nigga could switch so quick from wearin lipstick, to smokin on chronic at pic-nics And now you think you're bigger But to me you ain't nothin but a bitch-ass nigga that ain't worth a food stamp And at Death Row, I hear you're gettin treated like boot camp Gotta follow your sergeant's directions Or get your ass pumped with a Smith & Wesson Learn a lesson from the E's Stay in your place and don't step to real motherfuckin G's! (Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless) "Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*} "Boy you should have known by now.." (Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless) "Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*} "Boy you should have known by now.." (Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless) "Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*} "Boy you should have known by now.." (Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless) "Yo Dre, what's up?" {*bang*} "Boy you should have known by now; Eazy-Duz-It"