Just Another Day
D. Dre Lyrics
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Six pounds of chronic on my grandma coffee table
That's how you remember it, that's how I remember it
Yeah, dip into the liquor store, .9 in my khaki's
Crips tryna get at me, my red Impala bumping like acne
My city a trap me
Been shot, robbed, stabbed, chased home, socked out
Disintegrate niggas went into me, dome shots like Kennedy
Slugs trippin' with Henessey, got murderous tendencies
And if you don't know where the fuck they got me from
Martin Scorsese when I pull out my gun
Scarface, car chase, tell me how your blood taste
Ask your baby mama, she'll tell you how a blood taste
Basket case, still I'm back with Dre, wait I never left
Run up in Beats, "Bitch pass the safe! Compton"
Produced by a billionaire in this motherfucker
Still smoking, Dre we need a ceiling in this motherfucker
Compton!
They're killing in this motherfucker
They're drilling in this motherfucker
Lock the door, they're stealing in this motherfucker
No chains, no reins, this my home
Nigga this hub city, no fly zone
Niggas pull out burners, start breaking like turbo on ozone
Crack fiends on the back streets
Where the tracks lean and the needles lay
And switchblades, if you bitch made
Put chili all on your Frito Lay's
Where we dream of Montego Bay
But all we got is the swap meet
Where the cops meet, go bang bang
Leaves blood stains on the concrete
And I'm the only nigga bumping Mobb Deep
Cause I mob deep down that side street
I'm a west side rider, [?] gats on collars
Don't hate me, better get your dollars
I be on Rosecrans with a Glock in both hands
Leaning on that bro hand
Flame dump like a co-tail with my name on it
Another day in Compton, the thrill is high
Know somebody's watching, but I don't know why
Feel the fire burning, it touches the sky
Feeling coming at you, I won't die tonight
So I get by, I get by
I get by, I get, I get by
Cause it's just another day in Compton
In the song "Just Another Day in Compton" by Dr. Dre, the lyrics describe the gritty reality of life in Compton, California. The song describes the harshness of life in the city with explicit language and vivid imagery. The opening line, "It's motherfuckin' Game time!" sets the tone for the rest of the song, as it announces the intensity of the situation. The lyrics talk about dealing with drugs, the constant threat of violence, and the struggle to survive in a dangerous environment. The lyric "No chains, no reins, this my home" indicates that despite the danger, Compton is still home for the artist and many others who live there.
The song also reflects the influence of Dr. Dre's upbringing in Compton. He describes being shot at, robbed, and chased home, which is a testament to the reality of everyday life there. The lyrics are unapologetically raw, and they make it clear that living in Compton is challenging. Despite the harshness, however, the song also talks about resilience and survival. The line, "Feeling coming at you, I won't die tonight" indicates the artist's determination to make it through another day in a difficult environment.
Line by Line Meaning
It's motherfuckin' Game time!
Let's get started! It's time to get down to business.
Six pounds of chronic on my grandma coffee table
I remember when we used to stash a lot of weed on my grandma's coffee table.
That's how you remember it, that's how I remember it
We both have the same memory of what happened.
Yeah, dip into the liquor store, .9 in my khaki's
I had a gun on me when I went to the liquor store.
Crips tryna get at me, my red Impala bumping like acne
The Crips were after me, my car was thumping with the music.
My city a trap me
My hometown is a dangerous place.
Been shot, robbed, stabbed, chased home, socked out
I've been through a lot, including being shot, robbed, stabbed, chased home, and beaten up.
Jabbed by esse's, cops, degenerate niggas with rags
I've been attacked by various people, including Hispanics, police, and other shady characters.
Disintegrate niggas went into me, dome shots like Kennedy
I've been shot in the head like JFK and witnessed people die in front of me.
Slugs trippin' with Henessey, got murderous tendencies
I was drunk and had the urge to kill someone.
And if you don't know where the fuck they got me from
If you don't know what I've been through.
Martin Scorsese when I pull out my gun
I'm like a movie director when I pull out my gun.
Scarface, car chase, tell me how your blood taste
I feel like Scarface, and I want to know what it's like to taste blood.
Ask your baby mama, she'll tell you how a blood taste
I've had sex with your baby mama, so she might tell you how it tastes.
Basket case, still I'm back with Dre, wait I never left
I'm kinda crazy, but I'm still working with Dre - who I never really left.
Run up in Beats, "Bitch pass the safe! Compton"
I was in Beats headquarters and told someone to give me the safe's code in Compton slang.
Produced by a billionaire in this motherfucker
The song was produced by a billionaire of whom I'm proud.
Still smoking, Dre we need a ceiling in this motherfucker
I'm still smoking weed like before and I think we need a higher ceiling in the studio.
Compton!
I'm representing Compton!
They're killing in this motherfucker
People are getting killed in Compton.
They're drilling in this motherfucker
People are robbing other people in Compton.
Lock the door, they're stealing in this motherfucker
Lock the door, people are stealing things in Compton.
No chains, no reins, this my home
This is my home, and nobody controls me here.
Nigga this hub city, no fly zone
Compton is a hub city where planes are not allowed to fly over.
Niggas pull out burners, start breaking like turbo on ozone
People pull out guns and start shooting like crazy.
Crack fiends on the back streets
People addicted to crack cocaine are wandering on the back streets.
Where the tracks lean and the needles lay
Drug addicts throw their needles after using them near the railroad tracks.
And switchblades, if you bitch made
People carry switchblades around and will use them if you look weak.
Put chili all on your Frito Lay's
I will mess up your food by pouring chili on your Frito Lay's if you mess with me.
Where we dream of Montego Bay
People in Compton dream about going to Montego Bay in Jamaica.
But all we got is the swap meet
We only have the swap meet to shop for things we need.
Where the cops meet, go bang bang
The cops in Compton shoot their guns frequently.
Leaves blood stains on the concrete
The shootings leave blood stains on the street.
And I'm the only nigga bumping Mobb Deep
I'm the only one listening to Mobb Deep's music around here.
Cause I mob deep down that side street
I go down the side street a lot.
I'm a west side rider, [?] gats on collars
I ride through the west side with guns hanging from my collar.
Don't hate me, better get your dollars
Don't hate me, you should focus on making money instead.
I be on Rosecrans with a Glock in both hands
I carry a Glock in each hand when I'm on Rosecrans Avenue.
Leaning on that bro hand
I'm leaning on the front passenger side of a car (which is nicknamed 'bro hand').
Flame dump like a co-tail with my name on it
I'll shoot my gun rapidly like the flame tail of a comet with my name on it.
Another day in Compton, the thrill is high
Every day in Compton is filled with excitement.
Know somebody's watching, but I don't know why
I feel like someone is watching me, but I don't know the reason.
Feel the fire burning, it touches the sky
I feel the passion burning inside me, so high that it touches the sky.
Feeling coming at you, I won't die tonight
I'm full of energy, and I won't die tonight.
So I get by, I get by
I survive and keep going.
I get by, I get, I get by
I keep going, no matter what.
Cause it's just another day in Compton
Every day is like this in Compton.
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
Written by: JAYCEON TAYLOR, TREVOR LAWRENCE JR., STANLEY BENTON, THERON FEEMSTER, ASIA BRYANT, THEPPORN PETCHUBON
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind