The Game - Bompton lyrics

Six in the morning, police at my door
Woulda seen them niggas coming but
The cameras is broke
My nigga Ant in the kitchen
Cooking up for a week
And my lil homie Pooh on my mama couch sleep
We cooking base, we cooking base
We cooking base, we cooking base
50 grams on the table
A key in the couch tucked
And it's time to break it
Down cause everything getting flushed
Looking out the window tryna find a way out
Seen the SWAT team creeping on
The side of the house
They threw a canister through the window
It shattered the glass
So I went into the closet and
Pulled out my gas mask

It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
And I die before I go back to jail
Tell them niggas this is
Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton
Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky

Nigga fuck the cops
They're supposed to have my house
Surrounded but it's not
So I'm hopping over the back
Gate with my Glock
Crossing Wilmington with 1500 in my sock
Look across the street
They running in and out my spot
Ant on the curb in cuffs
And Pooh don't know what's going on
Cause he just woke up
Till my Cincinnati fitted walked in
And out the store
Ain't find no drugs or guns so
They let my niggas go
We supreme
We mix that Sprite with that Promethazine
Hop in that Cutlass
Hit the switch and flee the scene
Euro coming up the block
Looking like a monster
Chucking up P's when we riding through

Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton
Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton

Riding down Alameda, everything was straight
Until we stopped at a light
And ran into the grapes
My heart beating like a 15 inch with bass
Cause I reached for my strap and
It wasn't on my waist
I'm a fool
What kind of nigga go to
Work without his tools?
And you often watch wearing
Red like it's bool
It's usually on sight with the crips
My guns stuck between the seats
And them niggas ain't trip
Bust a left on Imperial, sliding on gold rims
Empty the guts out the swisher
Then hop on the 110
Look around, I don't see one black and white
So we rolled the windows up
And hotboxed at the light
Yeah

It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
Watch Kobe score 60 on the Jazz
Now we heading back to
Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton
Bompton, Bompton, Bompton, Bompton
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky
It's gettin' funky, it's gettin' funky

Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge
I'm trying not to lose my head, ha ha ha ha