And why do we call ourselves niggaz 4 life
Cause if we die we still gone? be some dead niggas.

You don't really think you're gonna get away, do you?
We haven't spotted them yet
But they're somewhere in the immediate vicinity

A 100 miles and runnin
Mc Ren, I hold the gun and
You want me to kill a muther f**ker and it's done in.
Since I'm stereotyped to kill and destruct -
Is one of the main reasons I don't give a f**k.
Chances are usually not good
Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And getting' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white the capacity is two.
We're not alone, we're three more brothers, I mean street-brothers. Now wearin'
my dyes, 'cause I'm not stupid, muther f**kers. They're out to take our heads
for what we said in the past. Point blank - they can kizz my black azz. I
didn't stutter when I said "f**k tha police". Cause it's hard for a nigga to
get peace. Now it's broken and can't be fixed. Cause police and little black
niggers don't mix so
Now I'm creepin'
Through the fall. Runnin' Like a team. Well, see, I might have slayed y'all. So
for now pack the gun and Hold it in the air. ?cause mc ren has a 100 miles of
runnin

"Into this news. Four fugitives are on the run."
"FBI sources tell us that the four are headed"
"100 miles to their home base, Compton."

Lend me a muther f**kin' ear.
So I can tell you why...

Runnin' With my brothers, headed for the home base.
With a steady pace on the face that just we raced.
The road ahead goes on and on.
The shit is getting' longer than the muther f**kin' marathon. Runnin' on but
never runnin' out. Stayin' wired and if I get tired, I can still try out.
Hitchhikin' if that's what it gotta do. But nobody's pickin' up a nigga witta
attitude.
Confused. Yo, but Dre's a nigga with nuthin' to lose. One of the few who's been
accused and abused Of the crime of poisonin' young minds. But you don't know
shit til you been in my shoes. And Dre is back from the c-p-t. Droppin' some
shit that's d-o-p-e. So f**k the p-o-l-i-c-e! And any muther f**ker that
disagrees. Stuck and runnin' hard, hauling ass. 'cause I'm a nigga known for
havin' a notorious past. My mind was slick - my temper was too quick. Now the
FBI's all over my dick.

Got us tick and runnin' just to find the gun that started the clock. That's
when the e jumped off the startin' block. A 100 miles from home and, yo, it's a
long stretch. A little sprintin' muther f**ker that they won't catch. Yeah,
back to Compton again. Yo, it's either that or the federal pen. 'cause niggas
been runnin' since beginning of time. Takin' a minute to tell you what's on my
muther f**kin' mind. Runnin' like I just don't care. Compton's 50 miles but,
yo, I'm ma get there. Archin my back and on a straight rough. Just like Carl
Lewis I'm bailin' the f**k out. from city to city I'm a menace as I pass by.
Rippin' up shit just so you can remember I'm A straight up nigga that's done
in, gunnin' and comin' Straight at yo ass. A 100 miles and runnin'
This one goes out to the four brothers from Compton.
You're almost there, but the FBI has a little message for you: "nowhere to run
to, baby. Nowhere to hide." Good luck brothers.

Runnin' like a nigga I hate to lose.
Show me on the news but I hate to be abused.
I know it was a set-up.
So now I'm gonna get up.
Even if the FBI wants me to shut up.
But I've got 10 000 niggas strong.
They got everybody singin' my "f**k tha police" song.
And while they treat my group like dirt,
Their whole f**kin' family is wearin' our t-shirts.
So I'mma run til I can't run no more.
'cause it's time for mc ren to settle the score.
I got a urge to kick down doors.
At my grave like a slave even if the ren calls.

Clouds are dark and brothers are hidin'.
Dick-tricklin' at the sunny mutherf**ker's are ridin'
Started with five and, yo, one couldn't take it.
So now there's four 'cause the fifth couldn't make it.
The number's even - now I'm leavin'.
We're never getting' took by a bitch with a weave in.
Her and the troops are right behind me.
But they're so f**kin' stupid, they'll never find me.

One more mile to go through the dark streets.
Runnin' like a mutherf**ker on my own two feet.
But you know I never stumble or lag last.
I'm almost home so I better haul ass.
Tearin' up everything in sight.
It's a little crazy mutherf**ker dodging the searchlight.
Now that chase, the shit, is done and
Four mutherf**kers goin' crazy with
A 100 miles of runnin'
Stop! stop! stop! stop!
Surprise, niggas!

Writer : HOLLAND, BRIAN/DOZIER, LAMONT HERBERT/HOLLAND, EDWARD, JR.
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing