Fuck Compton teksten

Fuck Compton teksten

Morten Morten

Her i november er det 24 år siden at østkystrapperen Tim Dog løsnede det episke westcoast diss “Fuck Compton”
Om man var for eller imod havde ikke den store betydning for hvor stort nummeret blev.
Vi har her valgt at bringe hele teksten til din efterårsdag.

Tim Dog – Fuck Compton

[Verse 1]
Oh shit motherfuckers step to the rear and cheer
Cause Tim Dog is here
Let’s get down to the nitty gritty
And talk about a bullshit city
Talking about niggas from Compton
They’re no comp and they truly ain’t stomping
Tim Dog, a black man’s task
I’m so bad I’ll whip Superman’s ass
All you suckers that rif on the West Coast
I’ll dis and spray your ass like a roach
You think you’re cool with your curls and your shades
I’ll roll thick and you’ll be yelling out raid
A hard brother that lives in New York
Where suckers are hard and we don’t have to talk
Shut your mouth ‘fore we come out stomping
Hey, yo Eazy
Fuck Compton

Fuck Compton
Fuck Compton (Yeah!)
Fuck Compton (Oh Yeah!)
Fuck ’em

[Verse 2]
(Why you dissing Eazy?)
Cause the boy ain’t shit
Chew him with tobacco, and spit him in shit
I’ll crush Ice Cube, I’m cool wit Ice T
But NWA ain’t shit to me
Dre beating on Dee from Pump it Up
Step to the Dog and get fucked up
I’m simplistic, imperialistic, idealistic
And I’m kicking the ballistics
Having that gang war
We want to know what you’re fighting for
Fighting over colors?
All that gang shit’s for dumb motherfuckers
But you go on thinking you’re hard
Come to New York and we’ll see who gets robbed
Take your jheri curls, take your black hats
Take your wack lyrics and your bullshit tracks
Now you’re mad and you’re thinking about stomping
Well I’m from the South Bronx
Fuck Compton


[Verse 3]
Tim Dog and I’m the best from the East
And all this Compton shit must cease
So keep your eyes on the prize and
Don’t jeopardize my rhyme cause that’s not wise
You really think that you can rhyme
Well come and get some of this loaded Tec-9
Bo bo bo shots are cold gunning
And you’ll really be a hundred miles and running
You wanna play go ride in a sleigh
I’m so large I fucked Michel’le
In the bathroom we was boning
You shoulda heard how the bitch was moaning
Do do do do dooo do do do do do do do
Shut the fuck up bitch, you can’t sing
You sound like a kid playing on a swing (Fuck you)
I’m the man at hand to run the band
That’s in command
You know who the fuck I am
Tim Dog, what’s my motherfucking name
Tim Dog, that’s my motherfucking game
So whether you think that I’m just a myth
That riff, the lift, the gift, the if, the fifth
The shift, the spliff, that’s in control, to hold
To fold, to bold and make an ache and take and fake
Wooh! and I’m still too great

Fuck Compton




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