House Of Pain Lyrics

House Of Pain lyrics

Dodge this



Catch me if you can, I'm in 'em old school Barkley's

Back to the fence, puffin' on that Bob Marley

Flow like oregano, nigga, you already know

My competition's stiffer than Ronald Regan, let it go



Befo' you be a motherfuckin' vegetable

You scrap niggas too animated like The Incredibles

Let this beef go around like the twenty six's

It's young Game of flame, welcome to the House of Pain



Nigga, what about The Game?

Keep on playin', boy, I'll hop out this fuckin' Range

Look I ain't even ask for his fuckin' chain

But he took it off like Vanessa Del Rio



Now I'm on my way to Rio

After I see my PO, she cool, she a Leo

She ain't trippin' off the weed smoke

So I'ma blow it like the Patriots

And throw my dub up, 'coz Dr Dre made me rich



Where you from? California

What city? Compton

What you drive? Impala

What you smokin' on? Chronic



What you drinkin' on? Patron

What you sittin' on? The throne

Relax, make yourself at home



Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton



I wrote the block off, I talk that shit

Size twelve Bo Jacksons 'cause I walk that shit

There on Compton Blvd, that's where I walk my pits

Biggie and 2Pac and they bark like this



As I spark my splif

I see the coroner puttin' chalk around the snitch

We be shootin' like free throws, flyin' them desert eagles

Sell dope to the Po' while we eat chili Fritos



From a gang banger to a CEO

Everything I do is big like the nigga Caesar Leo

Won't stop till I'm dead, ain't gotta watch for the Feds

They ain't watchin' me, so here's a dome shot to the head



As I take a patron shot to the head

And reminisce about the shit the DOC said

Get money, get cars, get mine, get yours

And keep your head up, like the Lambo doors



Where you from? California

What city? Compton

What you drive? Impala

What you smokin' on? Chronic



What you drinkin' on? Patron

What you sittin' on? The throne

Relax, make yourself at home



Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton



Guess, it's time to break the number nine Jordan's in

Make a nigga mad when they been tryin' to floor the Benz

I'm doin' one sixty in the fast lane

Scott Storch in his Bugatti couldn't pass Game



I got it, made like my last name

I'm gone just like my Aftermath chain

Don't make me take you back to ninety six

Leanin' on that Datsun on the corner eatin' catfish



The Game, da, da, da Game spit, that shit

I'm controversial like the Afro pic with the black fist

Just ask the rapper that had to catch my last diss

I'm reckless and I ain't never crash whips



My pops wasn't around, so this bastard

Bleed California from the cradle to the casket

And I won't stop ridin' for my coast

Niggas keep talkin' 'bout my bread, we gonna make toast



Where you from? California

What city? Compton

What you drive? Impala

What you smokin' on? Chronic



What you drinkin' on? Patron

What you sittin' on? The throne

Relax, make yourself at home



Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton

Welcome to Compton