As my Daytons spin low-rider sitting low
Hitting corners so hard you could taste my rims
Rag top 6-4 henny in the passenger side
Smoking chronic just letting me ride
You would do it if my name was Dre
Second coming motherfuckin' throw it up for the King of L.A.
I'm known for making bitches take their clothes off
Long as I'm from Compton California I could never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfuckin' ounce of raw
Dribble rock like Kobe Bryant bounce the ball fuck the law
Feeding my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20 G?
Answer Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young black and rich
I'm the public enemy riding the bass drum
Just Blaze got the Remedy

[Chorus]
Now they ("Now They"), Now-Now,
Now-they, Now-Now, Now-they Now Now they got Me in a Cell
I got the Remedy
Now they ("Now They"), Now-Now,
Now-they, Now-Now, Now-they Now Now they got Me in a Cell
Aftermath got the Remedy
Now they ("Now They"), Now-Now,
Now-they, Now-Now, Now-they Now Now they got Me in a Cell
Nigga Back up back up back up before you get your punk ass smoked

I ain't no joke G
So don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angels
Where that Jacob watch is a trophy
N Staring at the Hollywood sign'll get your straight jacked
Where you from fool?
Better say your pro black
Cause walking in Roscoes with your chain hanging
Its like Juliane trying to get rid of the gang bangers
Now that Pac past trying to put us on death row get ready for the aftermath
I run through the city like Godzilla
Doing more damage than ice t when he dropped cop killer
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a 1-8-7
Who's the grim reaper with your life in his hand
Even the toughest niggas run when my gun go blam
So kick back and watch the bitches dance N.W.A is back now let me see your
Motherfuckin' hands

[Chorus]

I'm back by popular demand and so
All black interior on a cherry red 6-4
Niggas endin' they career trying to shut me up
Acting like I traded in my khakis for a button up
The west coast still dippin'
Game still bloodin'
And snoop still crippin'
So what you saying loc
Red and blue bandanna tied in a knot
As I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinning like the 100 spokes
3-Wheelin' through the neighborhood
System on blast as the mothafuckin' one time pass
The key to drive-bys is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into mothafuckin' confetti

When you cross that enemy line
Close your eyes parental discretion is advised

Writer : SADLER/ISBELL/HAYES/BOXLEY/RIDENHOUR/DRAYTON/SMITH
Copyright : Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.