Lyrics to M.A.A.D City
M.A.A.D City Video:
If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
Seem like the whole city go against me
Every time I'm in the street I hear

"YAWK! YAWK! YAWK! YAWK!"

"Man down
Where you from, n*gga?"
"F*ck who you know, where you from my n*gga?"
"Where your grandma stay, huh, my n*gga?"
This m.A.A.d city I run, my n*gga

Brace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane
This is not a rap on how I'm slingin' crack or move cocaine
This is cul-de-sac and plenty Cognac and major pain
Not the drill sergeant, but the stress that weighing (Wayan) on your brain
It was me, O-Boog, and Yaya, YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans
It got ugly, waving your hand out the window, check yoself
Uh, warriors and Conans
Hope euphoria can slow dance with society
The driver seat the first one to get killed
Seen a light-skinned n*gga with his brains blown out
At the same burger stand, where --- hang out
Now this is not a tape recorder saying that he did it
But ever since that day, I was lookin' at him different
That was back when I was nine, Joey packed the nine
Pakistan on every porch is fine
We adapt to crime, pack a van with four guns at a time
With the sliding door, f*ck is up?
F*ck you shootin' for if you ain't walkin' up, you f*ckin punk',
Pickin' up the f*ckin' pump,
Pickin' off you suckers, suck a d*ck or die or sucker punch
Or warn the bullets comin' from
AK's, AR's, "Aye y'all. Duck."
That's what momma said when we was eatin' the free lunch
Aw man, God damn, all hell broke loose
You killed my cousin back in '94 - f*ck yo truce
Now crawl yo head in that noose, you wind up dead on the news
Ain't no peace treaty, just pieces, BG's up to pre-approve,
Bodies on top of bodies, IV's on top of IV's
Obviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys
When you hop on that trolley
Make sure your colors correct
Make sure you're cornbread, or they'll be calling your mother collect
They say the governor collect, all of our taxes except
When we in traffic and tragic happens, that sh*t ain't no threat
You movin' backwards if you suggest that you sleep wit a Tec
Go buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial, I guess
M.A.A.d city

"Man down
Where you from, n*gga?"
"F*ck who you know, where you from my n*gga?"
"Where your grandma stay, huh, my n*gga?"
This m.A.A.d city like, "Run, my n*gga."

If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
Seem like the whole city go against me
Every time I'm in the street I hear

"YAWK! YAWK! YAWK!"

Wake yo punk ass up!
It ain't nothin' but a Compton thang
Chyea
Real simple and plain
I'ma teach you some lessons about the street
It ain't nothin' but a Compton thang
Chyea
How we do

Fresh outta school cause I was a high school grad
Sleeping in the living room in my momma's pad
Reality struck I seen the white car crash
Hit the light pole two n*ggas hopped out on foot and dashed
My Pops said I needed a job, I thought I believed him
Security guard for a month and ended up leaving
In fact I got fired cause I was inspired by all of my friends
To stage a robbery the third Saturday I clocked in
Projects tore up, gang signs get thrown up
Cocaine laced in marijuana
And they wonder why I rarely smoke now
Imagine if your first blunt had you foaming at the mouth
I was straight tweaking the next weekend we broke even
I made a legion then made a promise to see you bleeding
You know the reasons but still won't ever know my life
Kendrick AKA Compton's human sacrifice

Cocaine, weed
N*ggas been mixing sh*t since the 80's loc
Sherm sticks, butt nakeds
Make a n*gga flip
Cluck heads all up and down the block and sh*t
One time's crooked and sh*t
Block a n*gga in
Alondra, Rosecrans, Bullis
I'm still in the hood
Loc yeah that's cool
The hood took me under so I follow the rules
But yeah that's like me, I grew up in the hood where they bang
And n*ggas that rep colors is doing the same thing
Pass it to the left so I can smoke on me
A couple drive-bys in the hood lately
Couple of IV's with the f*cking spraycan
Shots in the crowd then everybody ran
Crew I'm finna slay, the street life I crave
Shots hit the enemy, harsh turn brave
Mount up regulators in the whip
Down the boulevard with the pistol grip
Trip, we in the hood still
So loc, grab a strap cause yeah, it's so real
Deal with the outcome, a strap in the hand
And a bird and 10 grand's where motherf*ckers stand

If I told you I killed a n*gga at 16, would you believe me?
Or see me to be innocent Kendrick that you seen in the street
With a basketball and some Now and Laters to eat
If I mentioned all of my skeletons, would you jump in the seat?
Would you say my intelligence now is great relief?
And it's safe to say that our next generation maybe can sleep
With dreams of being a lawyer or doctor, instead of boy with a chopper
That hold the cul-de-sac hostage, kill 'em all if they gossip
The Children of the Corn, they vandalizing
The option of living a lie, drown their body with toxins
Constantly drinking and drive, hit the powder then watch this flame
That arrive in his eye, listen coward, the concept is aim
And they bang it and slide out that bitch with deposits
A price on his head, the tithes probably go to the projects
I live inside the belly of the rough
Compton, U.S.A. made Me an Angel on Angel Dust, what


Nigga, pass Dot the bottle, damn! You ain't the one that got fucked up, what you holding it for?
Niggas always acting unsensitive and shit
Nigga, that ain't no word
Nigga, Shut up! Hey, Dot, you good, my nigga? Don't even trip, just lay back and drink that
Songwriters: LAMAR, KENDRICK / RIERA, RICCI / MORGAN, AXEL / SPEARS, MARK
Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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