Listen to Some L.A. N****z (feat. Hittman, Ms. Roq, Knoc-Turn'al, Time Bomb, Koka Kambon, Defari, MC Ren & Xzibit) by Dr. Dre

Some L.A. N****z (feat. Hittman, Ms. Roq, Knoc-Turn'al, Time Bomb, Koka Kambon, Defari, MC Ren & Xzibit)

Dr. Dre

Hip-Hop/Rap

80,747

Apple Music Note

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Featured In

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Dr. Dre

Vocals

Hittman

Vocals

Knoc-Turn'al

Vocals

Defari

Vocals

MC Ren

Vocals

Xzibit

Vocals

Camara Kambon

Keyboards

Elizondo

Bass

Ice T

Sampled Artist

Kokane

Vocals

Sean Cruse

Guitar

The Pharcyde

Sampled Artist

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Andre Romell Young

Andre Romell Young

Songwriter

Roger McBride

Songwriter

Duane Johnson

Songwriter

Alvin Joiner

Songwriter

Royal Rosheam Harbor

Royal Rosheam Harbor

Songwriter

Brian Bailey

Songwriter

Marquese D. Holder

Marquese D. Holder

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Dr. Dre

Producer

Mel-Man

Producer

Richard "Segal" Huredia

Richard "Segal" Huredia

Mixing Engineer

Brian Gardner

Mastering Engineer

Dave Tenhouten

Assistant Engineer

Jason Lemiere

Assistant Engineer

Michelle Lynn Forbes

Michelle Lynn Forbes

Assistant Engineer

Steve Macauley

Assistant Engineer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag

Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag

G'd up from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up

Lockin', smokin', and drinkin' 'til we threw up

At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up

Ditchin' my class, just to fuck yo' school up

You don't wanna blast, **** tuck yo' tool up

[Verse 2]

But don't sleep, y'all **** quick to shoot you

Now there's another motherfucker with no future

But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba

Got 'em jumpin', disciples to the hood

[Verse 3]

I'm comin' straight outta Compton with a loose cannon

Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner

Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch

From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock wit cha

Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks and Hittman bought a fix

Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch

Here it tick tick tick tick

[Verse 4]

Wait a minute its on, I tell it like a true mackadelic

Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it

From sundown to sunup, clown done run up

The aftermath'll be two in your gut, **** what?

[Verse 5]

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat

Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.

It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops

Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.

[Verse 6]

Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move

They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do

Cock me back

Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax

Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true

But I grew up where **** jack you, harass you

Blast you, for that set you claim

Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.

[Verse 7]

Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang

I helped **** get jacked for they Dana Dane's

My pants hang below my waistline

I look humble wanna rumble?

I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time

Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's

One time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches

Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches

[Verse 8]

I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'

Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood

Slugs for the fuck of it

Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick

If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor

Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore

It's AvireX-to-the-Z

Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV

[Verse 9]

Cassette and CD, it's all mine the whole nine the right time

Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie

What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health

Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself

[Verse 10]

Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'

Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer

Let 'em come in, "blaow," he see the thunder roll

Roll with **** who buy fifths by the fo'

And bruise by the case

Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced

Liquid kings with sedans and gold rings

Haters scope the style, but can't find no openings

[Verse 11]

We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat

Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.

It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops

Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.

[Verse 12]

That's how we ride

That's how we ride

That's how we ride

That's how we ride

Written by: Alvin Joiner, Andre Young, BAILEY BRIAN ANTHONY, Duane Johnson, Marquese D. Holder, R. Harbor

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