1980 Compound

Verse 1:

You have the intellection
And perception
That fake is what I'm possesin'
But Junior Villegas let me show you a ****** lesson
That'll have you second guessin'
Have you ever had a knife to your throat at the age of 11
Flashbacks of my past years but I could only Remember 7
I didn't know if i was going into hell or straight to heaven
But this nigga around my block had the mac' 11

Ready to spray
Everyday
Nigga thats just what he had to say

(Chorus)

I know you pack heat and you got gats
But where's the ability to rap at
Always criticizing about my past raps
Sorry but your lyrical tires man they got flats

Fuckin' around and im breakin' em down
Ain't got no time for these phony ass clowns
Tryna hate on the style when you should adjust your sound
You soundin like you're recording off of a vcr with 1980 compounds

Verse 2:

You ain't nothin but a hater
Boy go ahead and meet your creator
I'm sitting up on the boss table
While you just the waiter To this rap game I don't address any limitator
That try's to ruin my work but saying I'm an imitator
I ain't ever pulled the heat but best believe that I pulled the paper
Junior that nigga ain't nothin but a hater

You can go ahead and step in line
I ain't ever gonna stop my shine
Never gonna stop my grind

Words are more powerful than action
So whatever gives you satisfaction
I guarantee you that I'll continue rappin
Recline my seat as I hear the Subs slalpin'
Throwin' cash while I'm laughing
Your hollow tips in my dome won't stop me from lash in'

(Chorus)

I know you pack heat and you got gats
But where's the ability to rap at
Always criticizing about my past raps
Sorry but your lyrical tires man they got flats

Fuckin' around and im breakin' em down
Ain't got no time for these phony ass clowns
Tryna hate on the style when you should adjust your sound
You soundin like you're recording off of a vcr with 1980 compounds

Verse 3:

It was back in the day
Just another kid growing up on the southern avenue of the tray
The tray that feeds the violence that can be confused with the play
Little kids carrying knifes and guns ready to spray
Just another small town where the sky stays gray
Where the sun blazes and the environment decays

But shit that ain't due to mother nature
All the decaying is fueled by the anger
Inside of everyone as deep as a crater
You never know who’s got your back or who has the razor
Ready to pull it out without being able to say later
Man life that we’re living it couldn't get any greater

(Chourse)

(Disclaimer)