Peepin' Tom - Knoc-Turn'al, Knoc-Turn al

Yeah

It’s how we do

This a little story about uh.

A nigga you know well, Knoc-Turn'al

I can see you watching

Waitin in my garden

In my bushes plottin

Peepin' Tom’s in my home

Lookin in my window

Once upon a time in the projects, yo

There lived a nigga named Knoc-Turn'al

America’s most wanted, for sho'

In a black Lo-Lo, with tinted windows

Just cruisin' down the street in my 6−4

Checking all my traps and all my hoes

Life is, too short, I stay on my toes

G’d up, I spill gin and juice on brand new clothes

I pulled up, hit a switch and dropped the back

On the prowl in a black hat lookin for cats

I got a chrome plaque that reads, «Who's the Mac?!»

Black pussy, always talk about it 'cause I love it

This California love got a nigga drunk in public

Express yo' self, keep doin' it good

Got white on the block, keep the heat in the bush

Keep risin' to the top, keep smokin' the kush

The boys in the hood are always hard

Come talkin that trash, we’ll pull your guard

Knowin' nothin' in life but to be legit

Can’t trust my homies, can’t trust no bitch

Don’t quote me boy, 'cause I ain’t say shit

It’s hotter on the block than it is in the kitchen

And I’m hard in the paint, listen, I’m steady dippin

I get down, while your bullshittin'

And these are the tales, the freaky tales

Of a nigga on the grind that you know so well

Got a system in your trunk then I’m jacking for beats

Black superman, I put it down for L.A.C

I grip the pump in my lap at all times

Fools be jackin' other fools but they don’t be jackin mine

Summer time in the L.B.C.

(Fuck the police)

Fuck being bound by law and the peace treaty

We be clubbin, everybody likes when the girls shake somethin

System overload, stay bumpin

It’s thug life, y’all know the rules, gotta do what ya gotta do, and stay true

Propose a toast to the West Coast

Easily I approach the microphone because I ain’t no joke

Tell your mama to get off of my dip

I have no time to give her my dick, I’m gonna hold it

And walk around the stage

And if you fuck up, I’m gonna get my gauge and shrivel you up

Like California raisins, then unload the barrell and laugh

'Cause I’m puttin lead in your motherfuckin' ass

I’m on the radio, and ain’t a damn thing funny

It’s just like Compton, bitch better have my money

I messed up and I don’t know why

Tryin' to get a piece of that American Pie

Do my thing, blow off the roof on 187-Proof

It’s gettin funk-ay, it’s gettin funk-ay

It’s the formula, murder was the case that they gave me

Dear God, I wonder can you save me?

Dear Mama, Brenda had a baby

Hard times got a nigga goin' crazy

The hood can’t take me under, it’s a G-thang

We backyard bullyin' in the land where we bang

Gangsta’s make the world go 'round

What’s my motherfuckin' name?

Knoc-Turn'al, didn’t even have to use my AK

Today was a good day