"Remedy" lyrics

As my Daytonas spin, low-rider sitting low
Hitting corners so hard you can taste my rims
Rag top six-four, Henny in the passenger side
Smoking chronic just let me ride
You would do it if my name was Dre, second coming motherfucker
Throw it up for the king of L.A.
I'm known for making bitches take their clothes off
Long as I'm from Compton, California. I could never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfucking ounce of raw
Dribble rock like Kobe Bryant bounce the ball
Fuck the law! Feeding my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard, in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20, G answer
Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young, black and rich, I'm the public enemy
Riding the bass drum. Just Blaze got the remedy

I got the remedy
Aftermath got the remedy
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked

I ain't no joke G, so don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angels where that Jacob watch is a trophy
And staring at that Hollywood sign'll get you straight jacked
(Where you from fool?) Better say you pro-black
Causing walking in Roscoe's with your chain hanging
Is like Giuliani trying to get rid of the gang-bangers
Now that 'Pac passed, trying to put us on Death Row
Get ready for the Aftermath
I run through the city like Godzilla
Doing mo' damage than Ice-T when he dropped Cop Killa
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a one-eight-seven
Who's the grim reaper with your life in his hand
Even the toughest niggas run when my gun go... blam
So kick back and watch the bitches dance
N.W.A. is back, now let me see your motherfucking hands

I got the remedy
Aftermath got the remedy
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked

I'm back by popular demand and so
All black interior on the cherry red six-four
Niggas ending their careers trying to shut me up
Acting like I traded in my khakis for a button up
The West Coast still dipping
Game still Blooding, and Snoop still Cripping
So what you saying loc? Red-and-blue bandanna
Tied in a knot, as I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinning like the hundred spokes
Three wheeling through the neighborhood
System on blast, as the motherfucking one-time pass
The key to drives-by is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into motherfucking confetti
When you cross that enemy line
Close your eyes, parental discretion is advised