How to Survive In South Central - Ice Cube

And now, the wonderous world of.

Hey, come to Los Angeles!

Where you and your family can have peace and tranquility

Enjoy the refinement.

Hey Bone, hey nigga where you at though?

Hello, my name is Elaine

And I’ll be your tour guide through South Central Los Angeles

How to survive in South Central (what you do?)

A place where bustin a cap is fundamental

No, you can’t find the shit in a handbook

Take a close look, at a rap crook

Rule number one: get yourself a gun

A nine in your ass’ll be fine

Keep it in your glove compartment

Cause jackers (yo) they love to start shit

Now if you’re white you can trust the police

But if you’re black they ain’t nothin but beasts

Watch out for the kill

Don’t make a false move and keep your hands on the steering wheel

And don’t get smart

Answer all questions, and that’s your first lesson

On stayin alive

In South Central, yeah, that’s how you survive

Hi, this is Elaine again

Are you enjoying your stay in South Central Los Angeles?

Or has somebody taken your things?

Have you witnessed a driveby?

Okay, make sure you have your camcorder ready

To witness the extracurricular activities on blacks by the police

So you and your family can enjoy this tape, over and over again

This is Los Angeles, this is Los Angeles

Rule number two: don’t trust nobody

Especially a bitch, with a hooker’s body

Cause it ain’t nuttin but a trap

And females’ll get you jacked and kidnapped

You’ll wind up dead

Just to be safe don’t wear no blue or red

Cause most niggas get got

In either L.A., Compton or Watts

Pissed off black human beings

So I think you better skip the sight-seeing

And if you’re nuttin but a mark

Make sure that you’re in before dark

But if you need some affection, mate

Make sure the bitch ain’t a Section 8

Cause if so that’s a monkey-wrench ho

And you won’t survive in South Central

Now you realize it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be

You realize that it’s fucked up!

It ain’t nothin like the shit you saw on TV

Palm trees and blonde bitches?

I’d advise to you to pack your shit and get the fuck on, punk motherfucker!

And you’ll get your ass straight smoked

Yo I wanna say whassup to DJ Chilly Chill, Sir Jinx

Aiy’yo Cube these motherfuckers don’t know what time it is

So show these motherfuckers what’s happenin'

Tell these motherfuckers, don’t fuck around in South Central

God dammit!

Rule number three: don’t get caught up

Cause niggas are doing anything that’s thought up

And they got a price

On everything from dope, to stolen merchandise

Weed to sherm

Cause South Central L.A., is one big germ

Waitin for a brother like you to catch a disease

And start slangin ki’s

To an undercover or the wrong brother

And they’ll smother, a out of town motherfucker

So don’t take your life for granted

Cause it’s the craziest place on the planet

In L.A., heroes don’t fly through the sky of stars

They live behind bars

So everybody’s doin' a little dirt

And it’s the youngsters puttin' in the most work

So be alert and stay calm

As you enter, the concrete Vietnam

You say, the strong survive

Shit, the strong even die, in South Central

Yeah you bitches, you think I forgot about your ass you tramp-ass hoes?

You better watch out

And for you so called baller-ass niggas, you know what time it is

South Central ain’t no joke

Got to keep your gat at all times motherfuckers

Better keep one in the chamber and nine in the clip god dammit

You’ll sho' get got, just like that

This ain’t no joke motherfuckers

Now I wanna send a shout-out to E-Dog, the engineer

Puttin' his two cents in

This is Los Angeles