Lyrics:

[Intro]
G'eah
Blue Stamp official
Year Round
Keep it Compton
Brenk Sinatra on the beat
Leaving a couple of suckers terrified
Blue Stamp organize
Most Wanted gang
Lets get em'

[Verse 1]
All the motherfuckers here nowdays on the mic
Niggas tricking of a mill and what that feel like
Or a brand new dance, house, car or plane
Then they wonder why niggas get to snatching their chain
Everybody T-pain or another motherfucker
Or some clowns tryna bang
I'm a get you sucker
Man, identity theft
You don't know yourself
Better check like Cube
Before your dead on the shelf
Paid the cost to be the boss
Now theres a couple of bossess
Niggas is gone test
So you know what the cost is
And these internet sites
With they forums and bites
Another day another new nigga that they like
Niggas fucking up the game
But they still don't care
Every other day a new motherfucker up there
Just like the game kidnap
I can make a nigga dance
So I leave with the sap
G'eah

[Hook]
And we ain't fucking with you
G'eah, G'eah
I said these clowns ain't real
They ain't spittin on the mic
With shit we can't feel
And uh
We ain't fucking with you
G'eah, G'eah
I said these clowns ain't real
They be spittin on the mic
With shit I can't feel

[Verse 2]
Tryna keep it all hood
Shit gone take a miracle
Long as the shit catchy
You ain't gotta be lyrical
Destroy the air
Y'all welcome to tear
Who be fucking up the game
See the man in the mirror
Its a recession why you fucking off chips
On them high sided niggas grabbing chains and whips
I'm here to whoop em' into shape
Let me [blow em' the great?]
You know the menace keep straight
With the shit I create
Its like ya' diggin' in the crates
Find an old school jam
Back down memory lane type of nigga I am
Motherfuckers like spam
So I gotta be thin
Killing the fucking virus
When they try to get in
Go run tell a friend
G'eah, go tell that
We in the spot with chicken heads
Like Project Pat
In the mean street of compton everybody on cue
Couple niggas fucking up
Looking just like you
And uh

[Hook]
We ain't fucking with you
G'eah
I said these niggas ain't real
They be spittin on the mic
With shit we can't feel
And uh
We ain't fucking with you
G'eah
I said these niggas ain't real
They be spittin on the mic
Come on..

[Verse 3]
Nowadays its a shame couple phony ass names
Now these funny motherfuckers make the crowd a game
I'm the next dance craze motherfucker like Hammer
Fuck it, I sold sacks so i'm Tony Montana
Maybe the next hard motherfucker with the grammer
Out of banging influence your wearing a bandana
Greed give me everything that I need
The real from the west so yes I proceed
We on a mission, follow the code
I'm heading to the west were the guns explode
Story been told but nobody tell it better that Eiht
So lets get 1 thing straight
I ain't 1 to fuck around
Get the rap and tryna' floss
Niggas murder in the streets
Couple good niggas lost
No brained washed fairy tales, G'eah
We hustle everything everyday for sale
G'eah

[Hook]
I said these clowns ain't real
They be spittin on the mic
With shit I can't feel