The Game — Gang Bang Anyway

[Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q] Um, yeah Palms sweatin' guess it's time for the murder My nigga my nerve, I swerve left you dead on the curb Tell his family get them black clothes Any witness gets a 9 cold, could do this with a blindfold I'm that player on the corner lookin' dry when it rains Pimp a dollar out a pussy, I ain't tryin' to change Far from average, I'm smokin' this cabbage Bottled teeth, joint Karats, say cheese, make the cops freeze Big cribs, for bars, livin' by the dreams You only gangsta through your bop screen My set the reason for the Crime scene, fill up the city with madness We the reason the hearses left your hood and holdin' up traffic Let the riddles do the scrappin', keep the gun in my fabric Better pistol than them badges, you get dealt with the maggots Heard drive-bys everyday, seen homies die early age Though we still gang bang anyway Uh, yeah, Figg side [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q] Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway [Verse 2: Jay Rock] B's and them H's, tats on faces Glocks with extendos, chuckin' up the hood Then throw like 80 out that window the chopper make you limbo Gotta keep them antennas up, moving down Central Young niggas with skinnies, moving with them semis Catch your ass leavin' the club, murk you at Denny's Squeeze till it's empty, it seems so unreal 'Till the Gunfire got you using tables as a shield East side, west side, niggas getting chastised Droppin' like fruit flies, we all know who died We all go on Insta and get the whole rundown A 15 second clip until he put the gun down Know OGs who took more shots like diabetics Had that MAC paint on your face like cosmetics Chucking up big ass Bs is my fetish Type of shit that make you go brazy if I let it Niggas got zippers, wheelchairs and prosthetics [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q] Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway [Verse 3: The Game] Hundred days, hundred nights, nigga Let the K scream till we see the red and blue lights, nigga From the Hoovers to the Hundreds, nigga From Kelly Park to Bounty Hunters, nigga (Watch out for the shooters) Same age as the kids in Iraq now LA Chiraq now, funerals is packed now Preachers at the pulpit, Jesus is the background Grandmother get shot walking out the church, how that sound? Niggas don't really like it but we grew up in it City of angels, belly of the beast get chewed up in it Started as Black Panthers, everything power, everything pro black Started off unified, the FBI know that A little coke sprinkled on tables but wasn't no crack False imprisonment, Huey P, Geronimo Pratt Now close your eyes, listen to me, your mind'll go back Picture us chained together under the boat, that's a Kodak And since today is Thursday, let me hit you with a throwback Stolen identities, God left us here without LoJack Forced to find ourselves, forced to break up outta chains Got tired of getting hanged so we started our own gangs Tookie Williams (Crip), Sylvester Scott(Blood) Seventy two Lil' Country caught a slug And that was the first time a crip ever killed a blood Now the shit is worldwide cause it is what it was We know the history and we know the shit could end any day [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q] Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Crips, primarily African American gang Though we still gang bang anyway, uh Founded in Los Angeles, California 1969 By Raymond Washington and Stanley Williams Though we still gang bang anyway Today there's over a million Crip members worldwide Associated with the blue bandana Bloods, also primarily African American Street gang founded in Los Angeles county city known as Compton By Sylvester Scott and Benson Owens A mission he formed to provide members protection from the Crips Today there's over 5 million Bloods worldwide The government still can't contain us And our fate was sealed forever When 17 year old LA brim Frederick "Lil Country" Garrett Was murdered by west side Crips on June 5th, 1972 [Skit] Crip 1: Hey man ain't that Lil Country over there cuz? Crip 2: If it is, his ass gon' be laying in a blood river Crip 1: Hey man, make a u-turn and pull up on him real slow Crip 2: Alright cuz Crip 1: What's happening Fred? Shotgun pump and gunshot Woman: Frederick, oh my god, oh my god Frederick no, no Gasping for air Woman: Please, oh my God Somebody help me Y'all just gonna fucking stand there? Call the police Somebody help me, please Ok stay with me