[Produced by Dr. Dre & Dem Jointz]

[Chorus: Marsha Ambrosius]

Stone-cold killers in these Compton streets

One hand on the 9, all eyes on me

Murder, murder

Murder, murder, ha

Call 9-1-1, emergency

Hands up in the air for the world to see

It's murder, it's murder

Murder, murder (Murder)

[Bridge: Candice Pillay]

Murda dem down, kill 'em dead (Yo!)

Bullet to the dome, to the head

Murda dem down, kill a yout'

Don fi pull up on di man and

(Turn me up!) What it look like?

See, murda dem down, kill 'em dead (Yo!)

Bullets come down from the air

Murda dem down, kill a yout'

Don fi pull up on di man and

(Turn me up!) What it look?

[Chorus: Marsha Ambrosius]

There's the stone cold killers in these Compton streets

One hand on the 9, all eyes on me

Murder, murder

It's murder, it's murder

Call 9-1-1, emergency

Hands up in the air for the world to see

It's murder, it's murder

Murder, murder (Murder)

It's been a 187 in this bitch!

[Verse 1: Dr. Dre]

Murder this, murder listen, hear that Suburban whippin'?

Tinted windows, right at your wifey (Brrrat!)

And I bet you miss her

Reload the Pro Tools and we throw the clip in both trays

That's one on the left and one in the right hand

Scottie Pippen, both ways

Been doin' drive-bys

Got this music industry timeline lookin' like Rosecrans

When these niggas throw up them signs high

I'm talking about that bottom, where it's high crimes

Shit, I’m just tryna get paid and keep them thighs high (Thighs high)

Sometimes, I feel like I could just bury ‘em, bury 'em

Cause delirium, mass hysteria, no scarier area

I'm very aware hip-hop needed something to carry it

So I married that bitch and swung down in that chariot

And you way too fuckin' close, beware the barrier

This is Hub City, nigga, don't make us embarrass you

Man, you should be realistic, these niggas 'round here ballistic

We did the numbers, and you looking like another statistic

[Chorus: Marsha Ambrosius]

There's the stone-cold killers in these Compton streets

One hand on the 9, all eyes on me

Murder, murder

It's murder, it's murder

Call 9-1-1, emergency

Hands up in the air for the world to see

It's murder, it's murder

Murder, murder (Murder)

[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]

(Ahh, shit!) Recognize what live inside these eyes

I'ma ride until the dead has risen

Live in a project building, dodging the module ceilings

I ride, I'ma ride in a stolen Jeep

Ride with the eyes of five blind men, my vision (Corrupted)

Mama tried counseling, five plans for Kendrick (But fuck it)

My family ties had sabotaged Rosecrans existence (Abducted)

My aliens on surveillance, they paid me a visit (Disgusting)

Our stadium's packed, Raiders in black

Curls dripping, silver bullet, palladium in my strap

I lie on the side of a one-way street (Blow-blow-blow-blow!)

Nowhere to go, death all I can see (Blow-blow-blow-blow!)

I say "Fuck is up?" I fuck 'em up

Your supper's up, and something's up

I hope he no can walk the tightest rope before the double-dutch

Broke plenty records with this weapon, I protect it under oath

My discretion, fuck your blessing, fuck your life, fuck your hope

Fuck your mama, fuck your daddy, fuck your dead homie

Fucked the world up when we came up, that's Compton, homie!

[Bridge: Sly Pyper]

Murder, murder

Murder... murder

It's all murder... murder

Ahh!

[Outro: Sly Pyper]

Murder, murder

Murder, murder

It's been a 187 in this bitch!