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[Murs]
And in the third grade, I saw my first grenade
The homie kept it in a drawer with his sporting waves
And then we walked to the Compton swap meet
Across the street from where the cops that shot Keith
First option in these streets was not peace
'Cause everybody with a heartbeat got beef
It gave me thick stick, and with my big pen
I try to keep my nose clean in this pigpen
And by the tenth grade, I had a razorblade
Tucked it underneath my tongue like it was tailor-made
And then I graduated and got my first piece
I remember my first date and my first beef
And on both occasions, I was shooting blanks
Never caught a baby or a body, don't know who to thank
I was addicted to aggression and adrenaline
Wet dreams smelling like gun oil and cinnamon

[Slug & Murs]
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block

[Slug]
We used to wake up early, Saturday cartoons
And watch the Kung Fu flicks on a Sunday afternoon
But in the fall it was football, learn to take a hit
'Cause halftime we outside trying to tackle all the neighbor kids
In between the wicked wild, wild west and the war movies
Had me sticking out my chest
I report for duty, I'mma kill all the bad men
Too young to understand that I was being programmed
And when they mix the gang culture with the pop culture
You can't stop the profit, a lot of rocket science
How much of the military's budget be getting sucked
Into production of commercials and plugs?
Since the dawn of time, we got hit with stones
If the arrow sticks, it can split your bones
When the pistol clicks, boy give up the throne
Kill your whole squad, joysticks and drones

[Slug & Murs]
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block with the
On your block

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