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And why do we call ourself 'Niggaz for life' |
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'Cause if we die we still gonna be some dead niggas |
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You don't really think you're gonna get away, do you? |
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We haven't spotted them yet |
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But they're somewhere in the immediate vicinity |
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A 100 miles and runnin', MC Ren, I hold the gun and |
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You want me to kill a motherfucker and it's done in |
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Since I'm stereotyped to kill and destruct |
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Is one of the main reasons I don't give a fuck |
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Chances are usually not good |
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'Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood |
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And gettin' jacked by the you know who |
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When in a black and white the capacity is two |
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We're not alone, we're three more brothers, I mean street-brothers |
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Now wearin' my dyes 'cause I'm not stupid, motherfuckers |
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They're out to take our heads for what we said in the past |
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Point blank, they can kizz my black ass |
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I didn't stutter when I said, "Fuck the police" |
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'Cause it's hard for a nigga to get peace |
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Now it's broken and can't be fixed |
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'Cause police and little black niggers don't mix so |
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Now I'm creepin' through the fall |
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Runnin' like a team, well, see, I might have slayed y'all |
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So for now pack the gun and hold it in the air |
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'Cause MC Ren has a 100 miles of runnin', runnin', runnin' |
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Into this news, four fugitives are on the run |
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F.B.I. sources tell us that the four are headed |
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100 miles to their homebase, Compton |
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Lend me a motherfuckin' ear |
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So I can tell you why |
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Runnin' with my brothers, headed for the homebase |
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With a steady pace on the face that just we raced |
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The road ahead goes on and on |
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The shit is gettin' longer than the motherfuckin' marathon |
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Runnin' on but never runnin' out |
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Stayin' wired and if I get tired, I can still try out |
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Hitchhikin' if that's what it gotta do |
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But nobody's pickin' up a nigga witta attitude, confused |
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Yo, but Dre's a nigga with nothin' to lose |
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One of the few who's been accused and abused |
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Of the crime of poisonin' young minds |
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But you don't know shit til you been in my shoes |
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And Dre is back from the C P T |
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Droppin' some shit that's D O P E |
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So fuck the P O L I C E |
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And any motherfucker that disagrees |
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Stuck and runnin' hard, hauling ass |
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'Cause I'm a nigga known for havin' a notorious past |
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My mind was slick, my temper was too quick |
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Now the F.B.I.'s all over my dick |
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Got us tick and runnin' just to find the gun that started the clock |
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That's when the E jumped off the startin' block |
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A 100 miles from home and , yo, it's a long stretch |
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A little sprintin' motherfucker that they won't catch |
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Yeah, back to Compton again |
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Yo, it's either that or the Federal pen |
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'Cause niggas been runnin' since beginning of time |
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Takin' a minute to tell you what's on my motherfuckin' mind |
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Runnin' like I just don't care |
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Compton's 50 miles but , yo, I'ma get there |
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Archin' my back and on a straight rough |
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Just like Carl Lewis I'm ballin' the fuck out |
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From city to city I'm a menace as I pass by |
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Rippin' up shit just so you can remember I'm |
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A straight up nigga that's done in, gunnin' and comin' |
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Straight at yo ass, a 100 miles and runnin', runnin' , runnin' |
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This one goes out to the four brothers from Compton |
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You're almost there, but the F.B.I. has a little message for you |
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Nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide |
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Good luck brothers |
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Runnin' like a nigga I hate to lose |
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Show me on the news but I hate to be abused |
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I know it was a set-up |
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So now I'm gonna get up |
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Even if the F.B.I. wants me to shut up |
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But I've got 10, 000 niggas strong |
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They got everybody singin' my "Fuck the police" song |
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And while they treat my group like dirt |
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Their whole fuckin' family is wearin' our T-shirts |
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So I'ma run till I can't run no more |
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'Cause it's time for MC Ren to settle the score |
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I got a urge to kick down doors |
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At my grave like a slave even if the Ren calls |
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Clouds are dark and brothers are hidin' |
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Dick-tricklin' at the sunny motherfucker's are ridin' |
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Started with five and, yo, one couldn't take it |
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So now there's four 'cause the fifth couldn't make it |
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The number's even, now I'm leavin' |
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We're never gettin' took by a bitch with a weave in |
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Her and the troops are right behind me |
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But they're so fuckin' stupid, they'll never find me |
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One more mile to go through the dark streets |
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Runnin' like a motherfucker on my own two feet |
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But you know I never stumble or lag last |
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I'm almost home so I better haul ass |
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Tearin' up everything in sight |
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It's a little crazy motherfucker dodging the searchlight |
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Now that chase, the shit, is done and |
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Four motherfuckers goin' crazy with a 100 miles of runnin' |
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Stop, stop, stop, stop |
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Surprise, niggas |
