Lyrical Breakdown of Compton's N The House - Remix - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Ah yeah, right about now Compton's in the motherfuckin' house yeah do it, do it, do it

N.W.A is in full effect

Ayo, Yella boy, kick me that funky-ass beat right here

Kick that shit in

Yeah, yeah

Pump it up, pump it up

Who's in the motherfuckin' house right now? Who's in the house?

(Compton's in the motherfuckin' house)

Pump that shit up, c'mon

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Compton's definitely in the motherfuckin' house

Ayo Ren, what we gon' do?

To the people over here

To the people over there

To the people, the people, the people, people, the people, the people, people

From everywhere watching the show

Paying top dollars because they know

When we're on the stage, we're in a muthafuckin' rage

So Dre

What up?

Why don't you get the 12 gauge

Yeah

And show 'em how Eazy-Duz-It

So if you punks wanna make somethin' of it

Step up, run up, get up, what's up, suckers?

You want some of this?

Then you're a stupid motherfucker

Kickin', like the kick from a kickdrum

Yella boy on the drum gettin' dumb

Programmin', a beat that's hittin'

And if you listen then you know we're not bullshittin'

Dope, like a pound or a key (yeah)

So shut the fuck up and listen to me

I make a killin'

I got money to the ceilin' (why's that?)

'Cause I'm a motherfuckin' ruthless villain

MC Ren, stomping any fool in my way

With some help from my homeboy Dre

Now my name is Dre the muthafuckin' doctor

Rippin' shit up, oh yeah, and here to rock ya

With some help from my homeboy E

The criminal of the Ruthless posse

Fuckin' it up, (word up), is what we do

The reputation of the NWA crew

Gettin' busy because we're cold stompin'

And we're born and raised

And we're born and raised

And we're born and raised in Compton

Speaking of Compton, it's making me sick (why?)

Everybody's talking that crazy shit

Saying they were raised in the CPT (uh-huh)

Just as I was, they try to be like me

Poppin' that shit, get the fuck out my face

Knowin' that they never even seen the place

Claiming my city, it's my city they claim

Motherfucker, we're about to put some salt in your game

Yeah, I'm tired of these muthafuckas running around town

Talking about they're from Compton and shit

Trying to get on the bandwagon

Yeah Dre, I know what you're saying, man

But let's tell them who we're talking about, on the one

What do you call a crew that can rap like that?

Yo, N.W.A call them mothafuckers wack

Yeah, you know what time it is, listen to why we call them wack

They got a wacky wack record with a wacky wack crew

Yo, what about the lyrics?

That shit's wacky wack too

With a fucked up style and a fucked up show

Ayo Ren, what about the scratching, is it def?

Fuck no

The motherfuckin' record is so muthafuckin' wack

The motherfuckin' Cracker Jack needs to step the fuck back (back)

Do you want some of this?

("Hell no, he replied")

Dre, the muthafuckin' doctor

Well, for the record, it's Ren, and for the street, it's Villain

Dre, the muthafuckin' doctor

Well, for the record, it's Ren, and for the street, it's Villain

Yella boy, why don't you kick me one of them funky-ass beats?

My boy, my boy, my boy Ice Cube

Yo, we got my homeboy Eazy-E in the house

Won't you tell 'em what your name is?

MC Ren is the muthafucking coroner (yeah)

I'm getting rid of muthafuckas as if they was a foreigner

Show no grief to pretend when I sin

I punch you can block it but I'ma still get in

This ain't a TKO in the first

But it's some shit from a nigga in black and much worse

Than a beating from Tyson 'cause Ren is not nice and

Your ass is better off just rolling a dice and

Finding you a number for luck

'Cause you will need it when you see I don't give a fuck

My identity, and the shit is getting shown

Without a video I'm still getting known (yeah)

I'm at a show then my picture is taken

One click of the flash and punk niggas are breakin'

To the door, tryin' to join my fan club

Lip-syncin' over one of my dubs

An instrumental will scratch for the moment

Until I fuck up the so called opponent

That's standing in the zone of the twilight

Saying, "How in the fuck did he get mixed up in my fight?"

It wasn't a mistake, it was a set-up

So until I'm finished pumpin' my lyrics, you should shut up

And don't attempt to speak

Because it's bad enough you're rollin' up shit creek

With a nigga like Ren about the hit

Now let me hear you muthafuckas talk some more shit

Or I'ma, bust your ass in your mouth

Yo, unless you're saying, "Compton's in the house"

Who really cares, about a sucker on a take off

Bust a move, we can have a shake and bake-off

Me and you can go 'cause I don't care

Yo, rap fight or guerrilla warfare

We can rumble, 'cause when my lungs go in and out

I kick rhymes in a bundle to win a bout

Or scurry or scuffle

I just muffle the opposition, there's no competition

Let them know that Dre is getting stronger

Compton's in the house but now it's some' longer

I won't get set-up, shut up, I'm kinda fed up

You can say uncle and I still won't let up

'Cause Dre is the muthafuckin' doctor

And if me and Ren's on the mic, it's like propaganda no doubt

Boy, you should've known by now

("Compton's in the house")

Yeah, it's time to put Compton on the map

So don't ever think you can get it none, you stupid motherfuckers

("Compton-comp-comp-comp-Compton's in the house")

("Compton-comp-comp-comp-Compton")

("Comp-comp-comp-comp-Compton")

("Comp-comp-comp-comp-Compton's in the house")

("Compton-comp-comp-comp-Compton")

("Comp-comp-comp-comp-Compton")

("Comp-comp-comp-comp-Compton's in the house")