Tweedy Bird Loc What's Really Goin' On? lyrics
What's Really Goin' On?
Tweedy Bird Loc
GENRE
[Intro]
Look brotha
There's a new group
There's a new thang
Get down to the nitty gritty, yeah! (what's goin' on, yeah, y'all niggas, bitches too!)
(ah yeah, y'all niggas)
(what's goin on?, y'all niggas, bitches too!) (yeah!)
Can I kill 'em now? (oh yeah)
Yeah! (y'all niggas)
(what's goin' on?)
(yeah!)
[Verse 1 ]
Tweedy Bird got a bone to pick, some ass to kick
So give me the K so I can bust the dope shit
You say you want a scoop on the infamous group
You got the truth so let me take you back to the fucking root
Back in 1987 Eazy selling dope by his mom's crib
Shooting dice at the park like all the niggas did
Taking the 8 ball to the head like it's a bitch had an idea
To play a crew and deal with a fucking Jew
40Gs in the hands of a white man
Trusted in him before you think about your own clan
So come to me as I show you a high level
Go grab a shovel 'cause ya nigga made a deal with the devil
You use to be a real McCoy
Until you came up and turned your back on your homeboys Instead of getting your homies from the park
You went out your way to hire a bunch or marks
Then you can say you put your real homies
On your video flicks - but save that shit
'Cause an excuse is only good for the person who makes it
You sold out and now you straight faking it
But that’s okay 'cause the homies understand
You’re just another nigga owned by the white man
So take DJ Speed and that white girl Sally
Jump in that [?] van and take your ass back to the valley
Because what you preach is dead
So put that shit on your own kids head
And of course you ain’t no role model
So fuck you NWA and your ol' 8 bottle
And who the hell told you, you was a violent hero?
Take notes from me, bitch you a zero
As for you women, you made your choice
You choose Tairrie B so now I’m fucking your girl Joyce
Yeah! I fucked her and I had fun
And no it wasn’t easier said than done
So take it personal 'cause your respect is short
You better keep talking dollars 'cause you gotta pay child support
It ain’t my fault the hoes'll get you for your riches
But you shouldn't have babies by twenty different bitches
I ain’t jealous, but bitch you gotta come home
But until then let it be known what really goin' on?
[Hook]
(What's goin' on?) (Y'all niggas, bitches too!)
([?]) (What's goin' on?)
[Verse 2]
Verse 2 goes of to the gangstas of America
MC Ren is a fictional character
Ain’t that a bitch, punk, you ain’t a ruthless villain
Yo ass a lie, you ain’t never did a killin'
Always talking kill this and kill that on the microphone
But couldn’t bust a grape with razorblade shoes on
Bitch tell the world the truth for real
You ain’t gon' kill nothing or let nothing be killed
Cause you a prankster
You and Eazy-E's the Milli Vanilli of gangsters
Got some records, fine cars and making a grip
But you're missing an Oscar for perpetrating a Crip
You resemble a buster when it's time to squad
Who'd you do a drive by on, a motherfucking mirage?
So you thought I would pay you no mind
But a nigga like the Tweedy Bird ain't blind to your kind
The only reason punk you come to Compton is to get to school
Pass out t-shirts to promote your fucking group
Nigga this is Tweedy B, you used to look up to me
But you got ghost when you dropped the LP
You went out like Eazy and your sold your soul
So fuck you and fairytale rapper CPO
That goes for Lil Nation, Chip and Pork Chop
Fuck around with the UWC and get mopped
'Cause my homies got my back
AKA Double D, KeyLow G and Battlecat
My brothers told me there be days like this
But the real niggas from Compton's on the KP list
KB, DC, Booboo, Singula, Jew-Bug, and Hyme
And all the rest I don’t mention you know the time
We’ll diss you but we really wanna peel your dome
I’m Compton strong so now what's really goin' on? (Yeahh)
[Hook]
(What's goin' on?) (He went out like a bitch!)
(If you don't like it, I suggest you break why)
(What's goin' on?) (He - he went out like a bitch!)
(What's goin' on?) (If you don't like it, I suggest you break why - why)
[Verse 3]
I remember the days of old
When Yella and Dre was just like Prince wearin' pantyhose
Yo, fuck fiction, I’m telling the facts brothers
Yella and Dre is two gay motherfuckers
And [?] fucked ' em too when they was in the Wreckin' Cru became
So they ate two cans of [?] and became niggas with attitudes
Dre, beat up on women like Dee
But I dare yo punk ass to run up on me
'Cause I show you what's up
I treat you like a salad and toss you the fuck up
And Yella you need to go
'Cause you remind me of that bubblegum gangster Bazooka Joe
This goes out to Eazy and your whole damn crew
You don’t give a fuck about the homies
So we don’t give a fuck about you
You think black khakies and hat will make you brave
But you fuck with my posse and you'll end up in your grave
'Cause we give all we got to give
And don’t forget punks we now where your mamas live
'Cause when we roll, we roll hard
Straight outta Compton? no, your motherfucking backyard
So whats up with you, D-O to the C?
I hear you got fucked up when you run into a tree
So now you need your ass wiped
Go call the doctor because you and Michel'le sound a like
And Eazy who's takin' [slatts?] when Ice Cube left your ass?
And Dre blast and you think that shits gonna pass?
As I expose the bitches and hoes, long as WA stand for 'niggas weak anyway'
Another scoop on the punk ass group
You'll learn that Tairrie B's an undercover prostitute
How many widos have you known to wear a Compton hat?
Besides Eazy, Tairrie B, bitch, you ain't black
To Michel'le with that fucked up voice
“Something's in my throat” and it's a dick
To ATL you got a lot of growing up to do
We ain't Da Lench Mob but we be stepping up to you
Shouts out to Tim Dog, I like how you punked they crew
But you dissed my city, so fuck you
Make a note of this, next time don’t even speak
'Cause you’re just like a calendar, you're weak
South Bronx's got a problem, it's is a female dog
So put yo bitch on a leash if she's got teeth
And let me stress a little something
You South Bronx motherfuckers can't touch Compton
And to you D-Nice
Fuck around and I'll be doing 25 to life
I'll fuck you up so bad, you'll be yelling out peace
And when you get back home they’ll be calling you Denise
'Cause a punk like you ain't able
To stand up to me, so now there's crumbs on the table
I got the flavor 'cause my city's gonna stay strong
Time expires so now what's really goin' on?
[Hook]
(Ohh, what's goin' on?) (So - so now, so - so now big man, but he really ain't shit! Yo how'd he go out? "He went out like a bitch!)
(What's goin' on?) (So - so now, so - so now big man, but he really ain't shit! Yo how'd he go out? "He went out like a bitch!)
(What's goin' on?)
Look brotha
There's a new group
There's a new thang
Get down to the nitty gritty, yeah! (what's goin' on, yeah, y'all niggas, bitches too!)
(ah yeah, y'all niggas)
(what's goin on?, y'all niggas, bitches too!) (yeah!)
Can I kill 'em now? (oh yeah)
Yeah! (y'all niggas)
(what's goin' on?)
(yeah!)
[Verse 1 ]
Tweedy Bird got a bone to pick, some ass to kick
So give me the K so I can bust the dope shit
You say you want a scoop on the infamous group
You got the truth so let me take you back to the fucking root
Back in 1987 Eazy selling dope by his mom's crib
Shooting dice at the park like all the niggas did
Taking the 8 ball to the head like it's a bitch had an idea
To play a crew and deal with a fucking Jew
40Gs in the hands of a white man
Trusted in him before you think about your own clan
So come to me as I show you a high level
Go grab a shovel 'cause ya nigga made a deal with the devil
You use to be a real McCoy
Until you came up and turned your back on your homeboys Instead of getting your homies from the park
You went out your way to hire a bunch or marks
Then you can say you put your real homies
On your video flicks - but save that shit
'Cause an excuse is only good for the person who makes it
You sold out and now you straight faking it
But that’s okay 'cause the homies understand
You’re just another nigga owned by the white man
So take DJ Speed and that white girl Sally
Jump in that [?] van and take your ass back to the valley
Because what you preach is dead
So put that shit on your own kids head
And of course you ain’t no role model
So fuck you NWA and your ol' 8 bottle
And who the hell told you, you was a violent hero?
Take notes from me, bitch you a zero
As for you women, you made your choice
You choose Tairrie B so now I’m fucking your girl Joyce
Yeah! I fucked her and I had fun
And no it wasn’t easier said than done
So take it personal 'cause your respect is short
You better keep talking dollars 'cause you gotta pay child support
It ain’t my fault the hoes'll get you for your riches
But you shouldn't have babies by twenty different bitches
I ain’t jealous, but bitch you gotta come home
But until then let it be known what really goin' on?
[Hook]
(What's goin' on?) (Y'all niggas, bitches too!)
([?]) (What's goin' on?)
[Verse 2]
Verse 2 goes of to the gangstas of America
MC Ren is a fictional character
Ain’t that a bitch, punk, you ain’t a ruthless villain
Yo ass a lie, you ain’t never did a killin'
Always talking kill this and kill that on the microphone
But couldn’t bust a grape with razorblade shoes on
Bitch tell the world the truth for real
You ain’t gon' kill nothing or let nothing be killed
Cause you a prankster
You and Eazy-E's the Milli Vanilli of gangsters
Got some records, fine cars and making a grip
But you're missing an Oscar for perpetrating a Crip
You resemble a buster when it's time to squad
Who'd you do a drive by on, a motherfucking mirage?
So you thought I would pay you no mind
But a nigga like the Tweedy Bird ain't blind to your kind
The only reason punk you come to Compton is to get to school
Pass out t-shirts to promote your fucking group
Nigga this is Tweedy B, you used to look up to me
But you got ghost when you dropped the LP
You went out like Eazy and your sold your soul
So fuck you and fairytale rapper CPO
That goes for Lil Nation, Chip and Pork Chop
Fuck around with the UWC and get mopped
'Cause my homies got my back
AKA Double D, KeyLow G and Battlecat
My brothers told me there be days like this
But the real niggas from Compton's on the KP list
KB, DC, Booboo, Singula, Jew-Bug, and Hyme
And all the rest I don’t mention you know the time
We’ll diss you but we really wanna peel your dome
I’m Compton strong so now what's really goin' on? (Yeahh)
[Hook]
(What's goin' on?) (He went out like a bitch!)
(If you don't like it, I suggest you break why)
(What's goin' on?) (He - he went out like a bitch!)
(What's goin' on?) (If you don't like it, I suggest you break why - why)
[Verse 3]
I remember the days of old
When Yella and Dre was just like Prince wearin' pantyhose
Yo, fuck fiction, I’m telling the facts brothers
Yella and Dre is two gay motherfuckers
And [?] fucked ' em too when they was in the Wreckin' Cru became
So they ate two cans of [?] and became niggas with attitudes
Dre, beat up on women like Dee
But I dare yo punk ass to run up on me
'Cause I show you what's up
I treat you like a salad and toss you the fuck up
And Yella you need to go
'Cause you remind me of that bubblegum gangster Bazooka Joe
This goes out to Eazy and your whole damn crew
You don’t give a fuck about the homies
So we don’t give a fuck about you
You think black khakies and hat will make you brave
But you fuck with my posse and you'll end up in your grave
'Cause we give all we got to give
And don’t forget punks we now where your mamas live
'Cause when we roll, we roll hard
Straight outta Compton? no, your motherfucking backyard
So whats up with you, D-O to the C?
I hear you got fucked up when you run into a tree
So now you need your ass wiped
Go call the doctor because you and Michel'le sound a like
And Eazy who's takin' [slatts?] when Ice Cube left your ass?
And Dre blast and you think that shits gonna pass?
As I expose the bitches and hoes, long as WA stand for 'niggas weak anyway'
Another scoop on the punk ass group
You'll learn that Tairrie B's an undercover prostitute
How many widos have you known to wear a Compton hat?
Besides Eazy, Tairrie B, bitch, you ain't black
To Michel'le with that fucked up voice
“Something's in my throat” and it's a dick
To ATL you got a lot of growing up to do
We ain't Da Lench Mob but we be stepping up to you
Shouts out to Tim Dog, I like how you punked they crew
But you dissed my city, so fuck you
Make a note of this, next time don’t even speak
'Cause you’re just like a calendar, you're weak
South Bronx's got a problem, it's is a female dog
So put yo bitch on a leash if she's got teeth
And let me stress a little something
You South Bronx motherfuckers can't touch Compton
And to you D-Nice
Fuck around and I'll be doing 25 to life
I'll fuck you up so bad, you'll be yelling out peace
And when you get back home they’ll be calling you Denise
'Cause a punk like you ain't able
To stand up to me, so now there's crumbs on the table
I got the flavor 'cause my city's gonna stay strong
Time expires so now what's really goin' on?
[Hook]
(Ohh, what's goin' on?) (So - so now, so - so now big man, but he really ain't shit! Yo how'd he go out? "He went out like a bitch!)
(What's goin' on?) (So - so now, so - so now big man, but he really ain't shit! Yo how'd he go out? "He went out like a bitch!)
(What's goin' on?)
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