Lyrics:

It's motherfuckin' Game time!
Six pounds of chronic on my grandma coffee table
That's how you remember it, that's how I remember it
Yeah, dip into the liquor store, .9 in my khaki's
Crips tryna get at me, my red Impala bumping like acne
My city a trap me
Been shot, robbed, stabbed, chased home, socked out
Jabbed by esse's, cops, degenerate niggas with rags
Disintegrate niggas went into me, dome shots like Kennedy
Slugs trippin' with Henessey, got murderous tendencies
And if you don't know where the fuck they got me from
Martin Scorsese when I pull out my gun
Scarface, car chase, tell me how your blood taste
Ask your baby mama, she'll tell you how a blood taste
Basket case, still I'm back with Dre, shit I never left
Run up in Beats, 'Bitch pass the safe! Compton'