Fuck Compton

Oh shit motherfuckers step to the rear and cheer

Cause Tim Dog is here

Let's get down to the nitty gritty

And talk about a bullshit city

Talking about niggas from Compton

They're no comp and they truly ain't stomping

Tim Dog, a black man's task

I'm so bad I'll whip Superman's ass

All you suckers that rif on the West Coast

I'll dis and spray your ass like a roach

You think you're cool with your curls and your shades

I'll roll thick and you'll be yelling out raid

A hard brother that lives in New York

Where suckers are hard and we don't have to talk

Shut your mouth 'fore we come out stomping

Hey, yo Eazy!

Fuck Compton!

Fuck Compton

Fuck Compton (yeah!)

Fuck Compton (oh, yeah!)

Fuck 'em

(Why you dissing Eazy?)

Cause the boy ain't shit

Chew him with tobacco, and spit him in shit

I'll crush Ice Cube, I'm cool wit Ice T

But NWA ain't shit to me

Dre, beating on Dee from Pump it Up!

Step to the Dog and get fucked up!

I'm simplistic, imperialistic, idealistic

And I'm kicking the ballistics

Having that gang war

We want to know what you're fighting for

Fighting over colors?

All that gang shit's for dumb motherfuckers!

But you go on thinking you're hard

Come to New York and we'll see who gets robbed!

Take your jheri curls, take your black hats

Take your wack lyrics and your bullshit tracks

Now you're mad and you're thinking about stomping

Well I'm from the South Bronx, fuck Compton!

Fuck Compton

Fuck Compton (yeah!)

Fuck Compton (oh, yeah!)

Fuck 'em

Tim Dog and I'm the best from the East

And all this Compton shit must cease

So keep your eyes on the prize and

Don't jeopardize my rhyme cause that's not wise

You really think that you can rhyme

Well come and get some of this loaded Tec-9

Bo bo bo shots are cold gunning

And you'll really be a hundred miles and running

You wanna play go ride in a sleigh

I'm so large I fucked Michel'le

In the bathroom we was boning

You shoulda heard how the bitch was moaning

Do do do do dooo do do do do do do do

Shut the fuck up bitch, you can't sing

You sound like a kid playing on a swing (Fuck you)

I'm the man at hand to run the band

That's in command

You know who the fuck I am

Tim Dog, what's my motherfucking name

Tim Dog, that's my motherfucking game

So whether you think that I'm just a myth

That riff, the lift, the gift, the if, the fifth

The shift, the spliff, that's in control, to hold

To fold, to bold and make an ache and take and fake

Wooh! And I'm still too great

Fuck Compton