Is it a bird, is it a plane?
Is it a bird, is it a plane?
Is it a bird, is it a plane?
Compton's lynching, muthafuckas with a left hook
So turn the 8 on 80 as I start to cook
As my name states terror when you're caught in the dark
I punk bitches and kill off all scary marks
So get a puff of the bomb-ass Compton shit
And watch the A-double-M pop in the second clip
And when I'm all finished unloading
I set the timer to 8 seconds, heads start exploding
So punk, get your shit in gear
Say your prayers, you're scared as Mike brings up the rear
Now you're caught in the trap and you can't escape
Made a bad mistake cause you dissed the 8
You broke the penalty, punk, start paying
And you're short, shorter than short, know what I'm saying?
So step back, sorry clown, you ain't hitting
You gets no juice cause Compton's lynching
"Compton's in the house" (x3)
"Compton's lynching muthafuckas"
Fools, gain weight, ain't no time to play pussy
8 Is back to attack so don't push me
Don't try to play with my rhyme, you can't stand this
I'm from Compton, so I don't give a fuck if you ban this
I got you trapped in a muthafucking straight coat
I guess you just can't talk with a clenched throat
So punk, don't try to bargain with your rhymes
Playing me close when you're crossing 8's line
And that's not good for your health
Cause when it comes to Eiht and Mike, you'll get dealt with
The muthafucking power after hour
No air to breathe cause all the suckers we devour
So hang up your dreams of making snaps
You won't make a penny with your fucked up raps
So step back or it's your title I'm clinching
Punk-ass fool, cause Compton's lynching
I guess I'll start dropping these fools
Cause their lyrics be like offending me
So you can say that 8's your worst enemy
So make tracks or it's your fucking hood I'll blow down
One on one, in the Compton streets, we'll have a showdown
And when it comes to 8, it's quite simple
Pull the trigger, bullets smack dead in your temple
No explanations on why I did it
When they ask, I tell them cause the punk bullshitted
So now I leave his homies in grief
I can't just stand there and trip off a sucker who got beef
And the 8 ain't bullshitting, G
I got to kill off the sucker before the sucker gets me
So raise the fuck up cause the 8 ain't tripping
Before I let a sucker slide, he's already slipping
And what's left is a sucker caught up in suspension
Word 'em up, G, cause Compton's lynching
You give up? I see you sweating like crazy
8'Ll stay cool cause fool, you tried to faze me
Your rhymes are washed up, your beats are fucked
You're just a victim, punk, you'll get stuck
By a brother with an evil vengeance
And when I say 8 kills, boy, I meant this
And if you're caught in the crossfire, it's like that
I mean the shooting of lyrics or the damn gat
And Geah, the 8 is back
Teaming up with the Mike on a sneak attack
So be prepared to get gaffled in the mix
As my DJ Mike T fuck with the turntable tricks
So take flicks cause you're all on his dick
And it's making me sick as he start to do a trick
So raise the fuck up, it's pieces of your brain that I'm pinching
Word 'em up, G, Compton's lynching
