Instrument
Ensembles
Genres
Komponistar
Utøvere

Sangtekst: Mc Eiht. Dayz of '89.

Geah
Some of that thug shit
Hoo-bangin' gangstas in the house
Representin' for the west
Compton one time
Check this out, uh

Geah
Hoo-bangin' in the house
We gon' do it like this
Compton in the house
For all the thug niggas out there
Life ain't nuthin' but money and hot nines
Crooked hoes, keepin hid from one...
Check me out

Somebody help me out the ghetto
Cause there's some things I just can't let go, uh
My mind takes a twirl
Lord, I try to cope with it, but I scream: fucks the world!
Young nigga with dreams of schemes for the cash
But then awaken to the sounds of late nite gun blasts
My moms told my ass: hit the floor!
Before the hot ones echo through the window
Damn, why the fuck it's - my block
Graffiti lookin' greedy and niggas who slangin' rock
Fo' sho', I wanna be like that, fuck mike
Unless mike was on the corner with a strap at night
Gettin harrassed by the cops cause he's tryin' to make some dough
So he can push up from a caddy and dumps the pinto
So everybody in the hood can cops the lleyo
And I can collects the cash flow

Chrous:

Life ain't nuthin' but money and hot nines
Crooked hoes, keepin hid from one-time
You got your strap uh, I got mine
Takin you back to the time of '89

Pops sendin money in lines from out of state
But too late, I'm on the corner now way past eight
Better they be on the look out for dark head lights
Or get caught up in a twist of a long kiss goodnight
Love the days of gettin paid with the cavi I clock
When I roam the hard knocks are the court down block
Turnin tide, now you bitch niggas wanna trip
With a year-old cutlass and a bag full of grips
Still dips the hood, stay true is what they tell me

Fuck you bitch-ass niggas, know the nina never fail me
Lord, forgive me cause sometimes I can't deal
With the pressures from the hood where the mentality to kill
Protects me and my kids next, that's real
Jealous-ass bitches cause y'all gots no skrill
Time will reveal
I be damned if I let y'all niggas stop my next meal

Chorus...

Now I sits in late nite spots and clock chips
With a bag of chips eatin loaded up extra clips
Watch out for the knock at the do'
Throw your money through the mail and pick up the damn blow
Quickly now, don't let the po-po show
Or I'm hitted to the spot where the moon don't blow
Life's a bitch, life's not a dance
Life's too short for my ass to try to chance
Last place niggas get caught for the fuckin dollars
Have your ass on g.r. while I dip impalas
Blue-collar niggas sellin to white-collar fools
But I don't givin a fuck, y'all know cash rules
Pay ya dues, stay true to the street
Get your money, man, fo' sho' packs my heat
Told by the g'z that talk is cheap
But y'all know since the days I'm in too deep
C'mon

Chorus...

Hoo-bangin' in the house, c'mon
You know the fuck we regulate
For all the thug niggas out there
Thug niggas on the block
Compton to the fullest
Hoo-bangin' till I die, nigga
Check this out

Chorus...

Geah
Compton
Geah
Hoo-bangin' to the fullest
Geah