Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): William Calhoun, De Sean La Ron Cooper, Leo Nocentelli, George Porter, O'Shea Jackson, Joseph Modeliste, Arthur Neville, Corey Dean Lloyd, Roger Mcbride, Craig Antoine Miller
Here's another day at the stoplight
I'm lookin' in my mirror so I can see who can see me
South Central is puttin' Ice Cube to the test
With four brothas in the SS
Now I can't go around and can't back up
So I gotta peep game layin' in the cut
Is this a jack or a kidnap?
Since I'm never ever slippin', I'm fully strapped
I grab my gat out the glove
Do these fools got a problem with me or do they got love?
And when the light turns green, I don't bone out
I wanna see what these black men are all about
'Cuz if it's my time, I'm just short
If not, I'm pluggin' they Super Sport
First they get behind my ride
Then they switch lanes to the left side
I'm scopin' out the one smokin' indo
Comin' up fast, rollin' down his window
He threw up a sign, I put away my nine
Fool, 'cuz I'm color blind
Killa Cali, the state where they kill
Over colors, 'cuz brothas don't know the deal
And they'll cap you, not if they have to
But if they want to, first they might confront you
But every nigga on my block can't stop
And he won't stop and he don't stop
Not to the bang bang boogie, but they like to gangbang
And rookies ain't the only ones that drop
Some say the little locs are gettin' a little too loc'ed
And when it comes to dust, they kick up the most
Say the wrong word then whistle down the street
To your homies like a bird
Bust a U-turn, come back and get served nigga
For the women, it don't matter how loud they blouse get
But wearin' the wrong color outfit, could get your mouth split
It's a shame but it ain't no thang to me
'Cuz I slang these thangs like a G
It's on, is anybody killin' for the summertime
I gotta get another nine, even though I'm color blind
I'm fresh outta county on bail
And no sooner do I get out, seems like I'm right back in jail
For some gang related activity
'Cuz everyday, different fools try to get with me
And for no more than a color or territory
Can't rehabilitate 'em, that's the sheriff's story
So what's left, the judge goes deaf
When you try to tell your side and you ain't blue eyed
Boy you better duck, 'cuz the book is comin'
So just hand your car keys over to your woman
Because it ain't no sunshine where you headed
And the shit'll drive you crazy if you let it
But now, I got time to think
Because they hit me with everything but the kitchen sink
And I ain't even shed a tear
'Cuz believe it or not, they got more love for me here
Now picture that but on a black and white photograph
'Cuz brothas, you don't know the half
On the streets, I was damn near outta my mind
But ever since I've been down, I'm color blind
Now here's the game plan, yo, at a quarter to nine
I was told to peel a cap on the other side
Yo, young and dumb, full of come up, a baby loc
I gotta put in work for the hood and that ain't no joke
Stable and able but I'm not ready and willin'
'Cuz I'm only thirteen and I ain't never did a killin'
Grabbed the A.K. and jumped in the G ride
Started up the bucket and headed for the other side
Yo, spotted the enemies, now I'm on a creep tip
Hit the five dollar stick and I'lI put in my clip
So, I jumped out the car and no matter what the cost
I had my mind set on sendin' niggaz to Harrison Ross
Caught one from the back and I looked in his eyes
Thinkin' should I peel his cap or should I let him survive
Yo, I'm trapped in the plan designed by another side
I ain't contributin' to genocide, 'cuz I'm color blind
Niggaz in the hood ain't changed
And I've finally figure out that we're not in the same gang
'Cuz I walk the alleys of Compton with nowhere to turn
Every which way I get burned, baby
Lou wears blue, Big Fred wears red
Put 'em together then we color 'em dead
Dead, dyin', gettin' smoked like part of the fun
They get smoked just to show how many come to the funeral
I understand how all my homeboys feel
'Cuz I've been shot to this day, I pack my steel
'Cuz I was born in a certain territory
Where you don't talk only the streets tell stories
With blue and red bandanas on the street
And if you slippin', you'll be six feet deep
See me and T-bone, we pay it no mind
And for the rest of the mob, we stay color blind
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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