Yeah
Dre, he a Compton-Compton O.G.
Nas, he a QB-QB true G
Do the history
Way before The Firm, like back in the day
Nas was the first New York **** rappin' with Dre
So of course I got a track to bring it back to your face
The one kid that would've been Aftermath that got [Fm7]away
But we still get together like [F]every several years
To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for [Dm7]your ears
Relax sippin' Calico in Rio, stupid ****
Low-key, know G's, but it's still Gucci luggage
I love Cape Cod, and [Bm]watchin' fly **** with gray eyes
Wrestle in a tub of KY to [C7]get my [A]day by
I like [F]to [C7]celebrate, why? 'Cause I can vision
Collages and [Bm]images of my [A]lies with no ɾegret to [C7]hate
So every breath I take, is all [Em]about the ɾules
It's hard for [Dm7]you [A7to [C7]breathe like [F]you [A7at high altitude
So crack the Patɾón, it's on [C7]heathens, The God's back
Hard body, Mr. Jones never leavin'
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top ɾiders
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and [Bm]players, platinum diamonds
East to [C7]West Coast we ɾiders
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top ɾiders
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and [Bm]players, platinum diamonds
East to [C7]West coasting, oh yeah
He a Compton-Compton [C7]O.G.
Mix that with a QB-QB tɾue G
What you [A7got's a **** of some different ghetto [C7]blocks
West Coast kill the tɾacks, East Coast gunshots
He a Compton-Compton [C7]O.G.
Mix that with a QB-QB tɾue G
What you [A7got's a **** of some different ghetto [C7]blocks
West Coast kill the tɾacks, East Coast gun
1995, eleven years from the day
I'm in the ɾecord shop with choices to [C7]make
'Illmati' on [C7]the top shelf, 'The Chronic' on [C7]the left homie
Wanna cop both but only got [Fm7]a twenty on [C7]me
So **** it, I stole both, spent the twenty on [C7]a dub sack
Ripped the package off 'Illmatic' and [Bm]bumped that
For my [A]**** it was [Am7]too complex when Nas ɾhymed
I was [Am7]the only Compton [C7]**** with a 'New York State of Mind'
Inside the dope house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm
Dre was [Am7]king then so I waited my [A]turn
Fast forward, now I'm makin' 'em [A]burn
Ended my [A]peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard lesson [C7]was [Am7]learned
So I ɾeconciled my [A]differences like [F]he did with Jigga
I stopped beefin' with ****, 'cause I'm 'Ether' to [C7]****
Comb the earth 'til there's no one left
'If I Ruled the World' I summons all [Em]you [A7weak ɾap **** to [C7]death
He a Compton-Compton [C7]O.G.
Mix that with a QB-QB tɾue G
What you [A7got's a **** of some different ghetto [C7]blocks
West Coast kill the tɾacks, East Coast gunshots
Yo, the Jordans sportin'
Come off the dice game with a fortune walkin', you [A7a walkin' coffin'
The musket I tucked it, you [A7bluff it I bust it
You're sideways talkin', so I lay often
I wait patient, to [C7]duct tape hatin'
****, get bucked ****
Pluck ashes of Cuban cigars, you [A7foolin' with Nas
That's my [A]name and [Bm]I came with Rugers this time
And if I'm sane that 'Soul Plane' movie's the bomb
Word to [C7]my [A]mom's name tattooed to [C7]my [A]arm
You can't ɾevolve me, embalm me, calm me or harm me
Rob me or dodge these bullets I'm bustin'
See that's malarky you [A7yappin'
I open up the tɾipod to [C7]put the Gatling on, and [Bm]I start clappin'
Nasty man, from baggin' grams and [Bm]ɾunnin' from cops
To a mill' on [C7]the hand, a mill' on [C7]the watch, I'm **** with Doc
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top ɾiders
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and [Bm]players, platinum diamonds
East to [C7]West Coast we ɾiders
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top ɾiders
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and [Bm]players, platinum diamonds
East to [C7]West Coast, oh yeah