It must be

Wake up in the mornin', oh, shit

Had to cock the 9, niggas tryin' to steal my bitch

Run out the back door, see them niggas hit the fence

I'm tellin' you, life ain't Compton, it's a bitch

Let off a couple shots, goddamn, I missed

Sayin' fuck it anyway, let off the whole clip

I'm not to be fucked with when I'm off liquor

Old English in my system 'bout to kill me a nigga

See, I remember back in the days, loadin' my A.K

Ridin' 'round in my Impala with my lungs full of haze

That's when I didn't give a fuck, now I got my sons

Shoot a nigga, he die, public enemy number one

But this ain't no action flick, no Johny Depp shit

When the TEC spit hollow tips in your Lexus

So, don't fuck with a Compton nigga

When he packin' a gat, yeah nigga, I stay strapped

Somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me

Somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me

Is it the shades? Is it the J's?

Is it the Bentley with the four colorways?

Or the old school sittin' on glaze?

What could it be?

It's 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I'm 'bout to roll a swisher

'Cause that's what real niggas do when they at home

Watchin' E.S.P.N. on a 70 inch flatscreen

K.G.'s away Jersey blowin' chronic that green

Gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams

Turn hood zombies into an Olympic track team

Till I got got shot and infiltrated the rap scene

Had to clear my life up, Doc. gave me the vaccine

Don't get it twisted, I still click clack things

Red beam attached to each and every strap

That I keep locked up in my basement

If I shoot a nigga will I be known

For gettin' Jason, I don't know

Still got a sick phase for shoot outs and car chases

Fuck Paccino 'cause we know niggas with scarred faces

And we go back like D-boys with small faces

And we crashin' them Ferraris like y'all hate me

Pharrell I think it's

Somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me

Somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me

Is it the shades? Is it the J's?

Is it the Bentley with the four colorways?

Or the old school sittin' on glaze, what could it be?

(You know they ass is full)

Niggas can't fuck with me, will stit

I guess I am a motha fuckin' legend, Will Smith

All I'm missin' is a bitch like Jaya, Bonnie and Clyde shit

Hit the fence like later, Syonara or we the dirt shit

Black rose phantom interior hurt shit

And I got some kisses from a couple Brooklyn bitches

Them hoes, they never testify, Beefs to Common

But Game keep it hood like Weez and top Rommy

Never stop comin' for the top

If it bakes a flesh wound if Feralla headshot

Motha fucka and when he take aim, bullets into your frame

My boss and allowed to when trigga swallow your vein

Can't walk through the club and take a piss

Without these new school rap niggas on my dick

Why you fuck around with you jewelry and all your wrist?

I pull up with your bitch pumpin' gangsta shit, now you know

Somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me

Somethin' hot in here, nigga, it must be me

Is it the shades? Is it the J's?

Is it the Bentley with the four colorways?

Or the old school sittin' on glaze, what could it be?

Do you thing shawty, do your thing shawty

Do you thing shawty, err'body lookin' now

Do you thing shawty, do your thing shawty

Do you thing shawty, err'body lookin' now

Go, go, go, go, go, go, err'body lookin' now

Go, go, go, go, go, go, err'body lookin' now