Some L.a. Niggas Lyrics - Dr. Dre

Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all 

Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga 

Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'? 

Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'? 

But this shit come all the way back around here 

My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass 

Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize 

L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga 

Recognize this 

Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag 

Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag 

G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up 

Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up 

At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up 

Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up 

You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up 

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But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you 

Now there's another motherfucker with no future 

But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba 

Got 'em jumpin' 

I'm comin' "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon 

Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner 

Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch 

From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha 

Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks 

And Hittman bought a fix 

Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch 

Here it tick tick tick tick 

Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic 

Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it 

From sundown to sunup, clown done run up 

The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what? 

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat 

Requirements for survival each day, in L.A. 

It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops 

Analyze why we act this way, in L.A. 

Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move 

They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do 

Cock me back 

Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax 

Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true 

But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you 

Blast you, for that set you claim 

Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K. 

Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang 

I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's 

My pants hang below my waistline 

I look humble wanna rumble? 

I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time 

Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's 

One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches 

Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches 

I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif' 

Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood 

Slugs for the fuck of it 

Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick 

If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor 

Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore 

It's AvireX-to-the-Z 

Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV 

Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time 

Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie 

What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health 

Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself 

Five in the mornin', burglars at my do' 

Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer 

Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll 

Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo' 

And bruise by the case 

Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced 

Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings 

Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings 

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat 

Requirements for survival each day, in L.A. 

It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops 

Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A. 

That's how we ride 

That's how we ride 

That's how we ride 

That's how we ride