Tha Chill - U Know Why lyrics

[Verse 1] I ain't stupid yo Motherf**er ran with the game See a gang of fumes rose watching the choir sing Say my n***a, he was good for the hood Two shots caught him slipping, in his place he stood We going to stick the script, but this ain't no act Record Sales are the work, man bring on stacks Way back in the days when we caught Jags Couple years after they introduce crack Bred mac with them hood rats on 1580 They was haters back then, motherf**ers was shady b**hes were kinda feisty, enemies was sheisty Wannabe MCs trying to out-rhyme me Please don't fight my gen no more Imma kick in the door and squeeze the 44 And y'all quick to float if you're quick enough Man the shots do burn, so don't act tough [Hook] So when the shots get to ranging out You Know Why And y'all done stopped all that hanging out You know why You ain't real what you sing about You know why That's why you biting for the paper route You know why Fools be fake and gold plated You know why And I don't see how y'all made it You know why Why we got to k** them off, Eiht? You know why Man these fools got us twisted and it's way too late [Verse 2] I love pot and photos that show your gang folds I wonder how you look when the casket closes Compton all day. #1 West City And when we bang coolest, boy, sh** ain't pretty n***as do dirt and get soaked with SAs We even catch you slipping up on your best days And I love West girls man, they love thugs And I love hotties snug out of town with d** f** a police mugshot, shoot up a block f** a neighborhood watch man, sell them a rock When they knock at the door man, flush it all down And quickly send it off back out of town 8 seconds to the truck boys, all it takes Two shots to the side, don't slam your brakes When the neighborhood get through, all of you wakes Compton on top through and all it takes [Hook] [Verse 3] Grown man in the coup, boy, don't play games Any motherf**er drops when the pistol aims We don't call out names, fool, we fight in the club When we blow chronic smoke, it's more than it does Big a** b**h won't buy ego rough That heart-piece is filled and crushed and snubbed Imma shoot one-one and shots k** you softly The second shot's to back your a** up off me f** around lose your shiny valuables in a scuffle Fake motherf**ers caught up in the Hollywood shuffle But they don't muffle the sound all over South Central Drive-by mentality, shoot out the rims You ain't got to go to the East to get your G-Unit West Coast gang unit, vest shoot right through it You punk motherf**ers d-don't d-don't do it Compton till I die, boy, thought you knew it [Hook]