“100 miles and runnin'”
and why do we call ourself ‘n*gg*z 4 life’.
’cause if we die we still gon’ be some dead n*gg*s.
“you don’t really think you’re gonna get away, do you?”
“we haven’t spotted them yet.”
“but they’re somewhere in the immediate vicinity.”
a 100 miles and runnin’.
mc ren, i hold the gun and
you want me to kill a m*th*rf*cker and it’s done in.
since i’m stereotyped to kill and destruct –
is one of the main reasons i don’t give a f*ck.
chances are usually not good
’cause i freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
and gettin’ jacked by the you-know-who.
when in a black and white the capacity is two.
we’re not alone, we’re three more brothers, i mean street-brothers.
now wearin’ my dyes, ’cause i’m not stupid, m*th*rf*ckers.
they’re out to take our heads for what we said in the past.
point blank – they can kizz my black azz.
i didn’t stutter when i said “f*ck tha police”.
’cause it’s hard for a n*gg* to get peace.
now it’s broken and can’t be fixed.
’cause police and little black n*gg*rs don’t mix so
now i’m creepin’ through the fall.
runnin’ like a team. well, see, i might have slayed y’all.
so for now pack the gun and
hold it in the air.
’cause mc ren has a 100 miles of runnin’…
“into this news. four fugitives are on the run.”
“fbi sources tell us that the four are headed”
“100 miles to their homebase, compton.”
lend me a m*th*rf*ckin’ ear.
so i can tell you why…
runnin’ with my brothers, headed for the homebase.
with a steady pace on the face that just we raced.
the road ahead goes on and on.
the sh*t is gettin’ longer than the m*th*rf*ckin’ marathon.
runnin’ on but never runnin’ out.
stayin’ wired and if i get tired, i can still try out.
hitchhikin’ if that’s what it gotta do.
but n*body’s pickin’ up a n*gg* witta att*tude.
yo, but dre’s a n*gg* with nuthin’ to lose.
one of the few who’s been accused and abused
of the crime of poisonin’ young minds.
but you don’t know sh*t til you been in my shoes.
and dre is back from the c-p-t.
droppin’ some sh*t that’s d-o-p-e.
so f*ck the p-o-l-i-c-e!
and any m*th*rf*cker that disagrees.
stuck and runnin’ hard, hauling *ss.
’cause i’m a n*gg* known for havin’ a notorious past.
my mind was slick – my temper was too quick.
now the fbi’s all over my d*ck.
got us tick and runnin’ just to find the gun that started the clock.
that’s when the e jumped off the startin’ block.
a 100 miles from home and ,yo, it’s a long stretch.
a little sprintin’ m*th*rf*cker that they won’t catch.
yeah, back to compton again.
yo, it’s either that or the federal pen.
’cause n*gg*s been runnin’ since beginning of time.
takin’ a minute to tell you what’s on my m*th*rf*ckin’ mind.
runnin’ like i just don’t care.
compton’s 50 miles but , yo, i’mma get there.
archin’ my back and on a straight rough.
just like carl lewis i’m ballin’ the f*ck out.
from city to city i’m a menace as i p*ss by.
rippin’ up sh*t just so you can remember i’m
a straight up n*gg* that’s done in, gunnin’ and comin’
straight at yo *ss.
a 100 miles and runnin’…
this one goes out to the four brothers from compton.
you’re almost there, but the fbi has a little message for you:
“nowhere to run to, baby. nowhere to hide.”
good luck brothers.
runnin’ like a n*gg* i hate to lose.
show me on the news but i hate to be abused.
i know it was a set-up.
so now i’m gonna get up.
even if the fbi wants me to shut up.
but i’ve got 10 000 n*gg*s strong.
they got everybody singin’ my “f*ck tha police” song.
and while they treat my group like dirt,
their whole f*ckin’ family is wearin’ our t-shirts.
so i’mma run til i can’t run no more.
’cause it’s time for mc ren to settle the score.
i got a urge to kick down doors.
at my grave like a slave even if the ren calls.
clouds are dark and brothers are hidin’.
d*ck-tricklin’ at the sunny m*th*rf*cker’s are ridin’.
started with five and, yo, one couldn’t take it.
so now there’s four ’cause the fifth couldn’t make it.
the number’s even – now i’m leavin’.
we’re never gettin’ took by a b*tch with a weave in.
her and the troops are right behind me.
but they’re so f*ckin’ stupid, they’ll never find me.
one more mile to go through the dark streets.
runnin’ like a m*th*rf*cker on my own two feet.
but you know i never stumble or lag last.
i’m almost home so i better haul *ss.
tearin’ up everything in sight.
it’s a little crazy m*th*rf*cker dodging the searchlight.
now that chase, the sh*t, is done and
four m*th*rf*ckers goin’ crazy with
a 100 miles of runnin’!
stop! stop! stop! stop!