Wavin’ the Pistol

Lyrics

[Hook: repeat 2X] Anytime y'all wanna go Motherfuckers, just let us know Wherever you at, we kick in the do' And start wavin' the pistol [Verse 1] I'm a nigga, still struggle in the Compton streets West Coast all day 'til my life's complete Like my homie WC, you don't work, you don't eat Try to drown out the gunshots wit' loud beats True son of the ghetto, no doubt, I'mma ball Live my life reckless like it snow tomorrow I win any fuckin' shoot 'em up contest It's no disputin' which side's the best Have gun, niggas will travel Stay up on it, motherfucker, till they slam the gavel We slang, we jack, we do drive-bys We fuck wit' hoodrats and always stay high Some shit that we go through Finger pointing, motherfucker, like we know you Compton, motherfucker, hard act to follow And ya pride hard to swallow, like love from the hollow [Hook] [Verse 2] Eiht, motherfucker, always so hood Catch me in the streets 'cause, nigga, it's all good Only heavy bodyguard I roll wit' is the metal Like a stunt driver when I'm pushin' the pedal Knuckle to knuckle, don't buckle, bob and weave Reveal the Compton tat up under my sleeve Behind it wit' the trigger finger like I was Steve Got the whole town talkin' like I was fuckin' Eve I'm a product of the pre-N.W.A Wit' the quality product tryin to double my pay To live and die in Compton and L.A It's about one victim like everyday Fist fight in the liquor store parking lot Shoot a nigga when he sit up in ya parking spot Little hustle tryin' to make a lot Like a little bg and his first spot Geah [Hook] [Verse 3] You got guns, we got straps We true to these murder raps, we peel caps We ain't snitches, motherfucker, we just take the charge That's why I skip bail, then ran, I'm still at large These hood niggas televise game for sale Wannabe motherfuckers in the game should tell Compton, we gained much respect You better duck down when the shells eject And ya little frail chest or vest won't protect From this true Westside Compton connect On ya front porch, play connect the red dots Like a photographer aiming for headshots '04, you get eight the hard way Even in broad day, the sound of ricochet This ain't Denzel on the set, it's been hell E wit' the four-O Federal Mail Geah [Hook] - 2X