The Dayz of Wayback - Lyrics - N.w.a

What we gonna do right here is go back... Now this is some *** that's from the Dayz of Wayback, When *** in Compton first started to jack. When the *** wouldn't give you no *** if you wasn't sellin' drug, So many *** in my neighborhood got mugged. They always loved that ***. They want a *** that's sellin' Ks. But nowadays they workin' at Mickey D's. But in the Dayz of Wayback I couldn't be laid back, Because I needed ends and I made that. I get the nine from my *** that he lend me and Start robbin' muthaf**kas, just like cowboys and indians. Anything it took to get paid. A *** like Ren already had the plane made. And I was in it to win it and not to lose. And ***, it start blowin' up, once I lit the fuse. And police couldn't touch me because I was payin'em. But not with no money - Yo, I was frayin'em. And never get caught because nobody is snitch, But one hoe did - so Ren had to shoot the ***! Now she's in a coffin and my life is better off and 'Cause everybody knows who's the bossin': That black *** that they call Ren. You f**k with me, you gotta f**k with a Mac-10. So listen to me as I reminisce the Dayz of Wayback... So check it out y'all... It was once a time in the Dayz of Wayback When *** was gettin' jacked. In fact it was one I used to pass through up, And kickin' *** through up. Muthaf**kin' Compton Massacre... Now let me tell you a little something about Compton When I was a kid and puttin' my bid in. Yo, Compton was like still water - just strictly calm. Now it's like muthaf**kin' Vietnam. Everybody killin', tryin' to make a killin', *** stealin', muthaf**kas willin' to dealin'. With so many ways to come up The average *** didn't give a f**k About another muthaf**ka in this game and Claimin' what he claimin', Livin' like he livin', Killin' after killin'. *** was a dirty job. To rob a dead man Was the best plan 'cause a dead man never ran. But now your best friend is your worst friend. Greed, cash the fee. Make a me more some of what you holdin'. So now your *** is stolen And you and your *** start rollin'. Yo, to get your *** back ain't a word of. ***? It's more ***, more ***, more ***. They wanna make you think that it's a crack thang, Or a black thang Or some *** in a muthaf**kin' gang... But guns and money they go together like the Ku Klux *** A *** brung up and strung up. Why do I call myself a *** you ask me? Rememberin' the days that's past me... Yo, never givin' *** a chance to rest. The ghetto is like a f**kin' survival test. And number one way for you to pass, Yo, get treated like a king and they'll crown your ***. They never in the wrong though, So I made a song so Muthaf**kas had know If, yo, livin situations make you wanna get a gat... That's 'cause you livin' in the Dayz of Wayback...