Artist: The Game f/ Jay Rock, ScHoolboy Q Album: The Documentary 2.5 Song: Gang Bang Anyway Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [ScHoolboy Q] Mmm, uhh, yo Palms sweatin, guess it's time for the murder My nigga my nerve, I swerve, left him dead on the curb Tell his family get them black clothes Any witness gets a .9 cold, could do this with a blindfold Ohh, I'm that player on the corner lookin dry when it rains Pimp a dollar out a pussy, I ain't tryin to change Far from average, I'm smokin this cabbage, bottled teeth Joint karats, say cheese, make the cops freeze Big cribs, four bars, livin pipe dreams You only gangsta through your bop screen Might set the reason for the crime scene, fill up the city with madness We the reason the hearses left your hood and holdin up traffic Let the riddles do the scrappin, keep the gun in my fabric Better pistol than them badges, you get dealt with the maggots Heard drive-bys every day Seen homies die early age, though we still gang bang anyway Uh, yeah, Fig' Side [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q] Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway [Jay Rock] B's and them H's, tats on faces, Glocks with extendos Chuckin up the hood then throw like 80 out that window The chopper make you limbo Gotta keep them antennas up, movin down Central Young niggaz with skinnies, movin with them semi's Catch yo' ass leavin the club, murk you at Denny's Squeeze 'til it's empty, it seems so unreal 'til the gunfire got you usin tables as a shield Eastside, Westside, niggaz gettin chastised Droppin like fruit flies, we all know who die Y'all go on Insta', and get the whole rundown A 15-second clip until he put the gun down Know O.G.'s who took mo' shots like diabetics Had that MAC paint on your face like cosmetics Chuckin up big ass B's is my fetish Type of shit that make you go brazy if I let it Niggaz got zippers, wheelchairs and prosthetics [Chorus] [The Game] Hundred days, hundred nights nigga Let the K's scream 'til we see the red and blue lights nigga From the Hoovers to the Hundreds nigga From Kelly Park to Bounty Hunters nigga (watch out for the shooters!!) Same age as the kids in Iraq now L.A.'s Chiraq now, funerals is packed now Preacher at the pulpit, Jesus is the background Grandmother get shot walkin out the church, how that sound? Niggaz don't really like it but we grew up in it City of Angels, belly of the beast, get chewed up in it Started as Black Panthers, everything power, everything pro-black Started off unified, the FBI know that A little coke sprinkled on tables but wasn't no crack False imprisonment, Huey P, Geronimo Pratt Now close your eyes, listen to me, your mind'll go back Picture us chained together under the boat, that's a Kodak And since today is Thursday, let me hit you with a throwback Stolen identities, God left us here without LoJack Forced to find ourselves, forced to break up outta chains Got tired of gettin hanged so we started our own gangs Tookie Williams (Crip!) Sylvester Scott (Blood!) '72, Lil' Country caught a slug And that was the first time a Crip ever killed a Blood Now the shit is worldwide, cause it is what it was We know the history, and we know the shit could end any, day [Chorus] [Outro] Crips, primarily African-American gang Founded in Los Angeles, California 1969 by Raymond Washington and Stanley Williams Today there's over a million Crip members worldwide associated with the blue bandanna Bloods, also primarily African-American street gang founded in Los Angeles county city known as Compton by Sylvester Scott and Benson Owens A mission he formed to provide members protection from the Crips Today, there's over 5 million Bloods worldwide The government still can't contain us And our fate was sealed forever when 17-year old L.A. brim Frederick "Lil' Country" Garrett was murdered, by Westside Crips, on June 5th, 1972