Artist: MC Eiht Album: Section 8 Song: Dayz of '89 Typed by: nemesi_@libero.it, jostmatt@bluewin.ch Geah Some of that thug shit Hoo-Bangin' Gangsta's 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 9's 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 (boo-yaa!) My moms told my ass: hit the floor! Before the hot ones echo through the window Damn, what 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 llello And I can collects the - cash flow Life ain't nuthin' but money and hot 9's Crooked ho's, 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 cluck 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 cluck 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 (uh) Life's not a dance Life's too short for my ass to try to chance Last place niggas get caught with 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 your dues, stay true To the street Get your money, man Fo' sho' packs my heat Told by the G's 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