Bompton

Six in the morning, police at my door

Woulda seen them niggas coming but the cameras is broke

My nigga Aunt in the kitchen cooking up for a week

And my lil homie Pooh on my mama couch sleep

We cooking base, we cooking base

We cooking base, we cooking base 50 grams on the table, a key in the couch

And it's time to break it down 'cause everything getting flushed

Looking out the window tryna find a way out

Seen the SWAT team creeping on the side of the house

They threw a canister through the window, it shattered the glass

So I went into the closet and pulled out my gas mask

It's game for days, it's game for days

It's game for days, it's game for days

It's game for days, it's game for days

And I die before I go back to jail, tell them niggas this is

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

It's game for days, it's game for days

It's game for days, it's game for days

It's game for days, it's game for days

Nigga fuck the cops

They're supposed to have my house surrounded but it's not

So I'm hopping over the back gate with my Glock

Crossing with 1500 in my sock

Look across the street, they running in and out my spot

Aunt on the curb in cuffs

And Pooh don't know what's going on 'cause he just woke up

Till my Cincinnati fitted walked in and out the store

Ain't find no drugs or guns so they let my niggas go

We supreme, we mix that Sprite with that Promethazine

Hop in that Cutlass, hit the switch and flee the scene

Euro coming up the block looking like a mobster

Chucking up P's when we riding through

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

Riding down Alameda, everything was straight

Until we stopped at a light, and ran into the grapes

My heart beating like a 15" with bass

'Cause I reached for my strap and it wasn't on my waist

I'm a fool

What kind of nigga go to work without his tools?

And you often watch wearing red like it's blue

It's usually on sight with the crips

My guns stuck between the seats and them niggas ain't trip

Bust a left on Imperial, sliding on gold rims

Empty the guts out the swisher then hop on the 110, look around, I don't see one black and white

So we rolled the windows up and hotboxed at the light, yeah

It's game for days, it's game for days

It's game for days, it's game for days

It's game for days, it's game for days

Watch Kobe score 60 on the Jazz, now we heading back to

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

Don't push me 'cause I'm close to the edge

I'm trying not to lose my head, ha-ha-ha-ha