Alwayz Into Somethin' - Edited

The year is 1991, N.W.A back on the streets yo
Taking out all you commercialized suckers
And we're on this laid back track
And we're doin' this one kinda smooth
So whatcha gonna do, Dre? Kick it!

And so on, let the beat flow on
Because I need something to go off on
The one and only D-R-E servin' a death wish
So I'ma hit you like this

Early in the morning, hop into the B-en-z
I got forty-four ways of getting paid
Sitting in my lap as I roll off the Compton blocks
To scoop up Ren, I heard shots
One, two, three, then I seen Ren
Hopping the fence and with the .45 inside his hand
He ran to the Benz, got in and said
"Dre, I was speaking to your girl O'Shea"

And as we roll on, I seen the patroller creep
So we got ghost before they peeped
Me and Ren in a black CE, yo
Bumping some funky tracks by the D.O.C
I gotta get paid, paid in a hurry, see
I got a habit if I'm not paid thoroughly
I start takin', makin' sure the money is steady coming
Because I'm always into something

Mi say mi just sick and tired of the police man
The brutality is on the rise
Man's not all, yeah said mi sick of the police man
Listen up, come down, and we see it

I heard a dope beat, somebody told me to go through it
But if Dre didn't do it I can't flow to it
N.W.A is like a mix of hard time and hard rhymes
In the same lines
You're taking a chance when you think that
Talking under your breath won't lead to young death
Taking a life, ain't nothing but a killing
For a brother labeled as being a young black villain

But you don't know me, a record can't tell ya
How so many prayed that I be just another failure
Real G's ain't about faking but taking
I hooked up with N.W.A and started making
Funky hyped lyrics for your system
Might sound nice so it makes you wanna listen to a
Sample of a ruthless organization
But you don't want a confrontation

Real G's don't play
Yella, Eazy, me and my homeboy Dre
Yo, always making sure that my beats is steady bumping
Because I'm always into something

Bom-bombclaat, they say come sack it on, come sack it on, easy
Lord mi looking at mi sweet, she come
And it comes like this man, seen 'em
Lord that buddy like sumn' n-n-nasty, uh
Man some of them tap with they money, some of them tap with they gun
For this ya Admiral D, affi Champion Sounds
Some of them chat with they money, and fi met me come she run
Yo Dre, wifey-lifey play with they gun

Yo, because I'm in it for life
From the beginning I was stacking
Now everybody wanna jack-in
Now watching a softy, punk strong as coffee
A brother like that best to back up off me
Yo, 'cause these are the days and the times of the real G
You cross me, you getting tossed see
And that's on the real, because I'm known to get ill
Again and again, so tell them what's up Ren

If I'm not into nothing, I don't feel right
So I get my boys and we roll yo, to go and start someruckus at night
Because I never conceive myself from sittin' in a cell
Where the crime was too tragic I couldn't make bail

So now they gotta hold me
And listen to rehabilitation over and over, sayin' they told me
But I don't really care, cause I know my music is bumping
Now Ren is always into something

1991, and N.W.A. get the job done
I said my name is admiral dance on beat, the gyal
Tellin' me 'bout they gun, they quick fi look at me, quick
Lord have mercy
That gyal could fi look at me quick
That gyal could fi look at me quick
That gyal could fi look at me quick
She got that dirty habit

That gyal fi wicked and wiley
Gyal fi wicked and wiley
Wicked and wicked and wicked, that gyal fi wicked and wicked
Mi gyal say, "I'm a dancer, come in and ask mi name and I see my beam"
Rastafaria, that beautiful sound, ya
Dr. Dre, ah he the master
MC Ren name it, and come cannot faster

Here come ya low, wicked and wicked and rocks
Wicked and wicked and watch
Wicked and wicked and wicked and scratch
That's why the admiral man, lyric be mi talks
Deputy one now, N.W.A. is in the house
Is in the house, is in the house, huh
Ah listen up 'cause we in the house



Credits
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Lorenzo Jerald Patterson, Tracy Lynn Curry, Burke Reeves
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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