Now that N.W.A. is moving up, we aren't recording our music in my parents' garage. We are currently at a real studio in Torrance, CA working on our next album, Straight Outta Compton.

N.W.A. and the Posse was a hit, and I know that Straight Outta Compton will be even better. Everyone except Yella, will have their own solo track. Cube knows that I never intended to be a rapper so of course I dont really know how to write my own rhymes right now.

He's writing my shit for now but eventually I'll get the hang of it and start writing for myself. Ren got in the soundbooth and started to record one of his solo tracks.

"Ruthless, plenty of that and much more  so at the party, Ren is controlling the floor that you step and do your dance routine it aint a dream my man you're in a gangsta scene. With a villain doin damage on a 24 track with no confusion to finish my conclusion rythymatic rhymes from a radio cat."

"I go to the party, I hip, I hop the spot.
I dont know what is but the girls get hot. Perspirin' like they're on fire and their so called boyfriends with em are retiring. And for this reason I'm a walking threat so when I'm on stage I want quiet on the set."

Minutes later, Dre got in and started spitting some rhymes from his solo track.

               "I'm expressing with my full capabilities and now I'm living in correctional facilities. Cause some dont agree with how I do this, I get straight, meditate like a Buddhist. I'm dropping flavor, my behavior is hereditary..... Don't be another sequel."

He sampled "Express Yourself" by Charles Wright. Cube and Ren are writing the lyrics for this album while Dre and Yella are producing the beats. It was my turn to get in the soundbooth. Since Boyz-n-the-Hood, I've gotten a lot better with my flow. I just dont write my own lyrics but I'll get to that when the time comes.

"I dont drink brass monkey, like the beat funky. Nickname Eazy-E, yo 8 ball junkie. Bass drum kicking to show my shit. Rap a hole in my dick boy I dont quit. Crowd rocking motherfucker from around the way.
I got a six shooter yo I'm mean and brave. Rolling through the hood to find the boys kick dust and cuss crank up some noise. Police on my drawers I have to pause 40 ounce in my lap and its freezing my balls."

Dre just produced a dope ass beat but we have no lyrics to go with it.

The phone began to ring, Yella answered.

           "Hello?"

The voice on the other end responded, "hi. May I speak to Eric please?"

          "Sure. Who's calling?" he asked.

           "Tracy."

Yella gave to phone to me.

"Who is it?" I asked.

           "It's Tracy."

     "Hello?"

          "Hey E how is the recording session going? I miss you," she said.

          "Everything is running smooth. Dre just produced a dope ass beat but we dont have any lyrics to go with it."

          "Ok well just checking on you. Call me when you get home," she said.

          "Aight."

I hung up the phone and heard Dre outside yelling but I dont know who he was yelling at.
I stepped outside to see what was going on. Then Cube, Ren, and Yella followed. Dre was arguing with his girlfriend. They have one child together and they both live with his aunt.

"We got a baby Andre and you constantly out in the streets fucking around. And now that you're involved with this music shit, you barely have time to spend with our child," she said. Her name is Cassandra. 

"Man you dont know what I'm fighting for Cassandra! I'm doing this for us. I'm busting my ass day and night just to get us somewhere in life. And you gonna come up here and start this mess?"

            "Look, we're living with your auntie Dre. This is not the life I want to live and my child is not going to go through this shit. I just need to go. Let me have my space and you can have yours."

              "You really doing this shit right now?"

               "You just dont get it," she said.

                "No you dont get it Cas," he replied. She drove off without looking back.

"What the hell happened out here?"

            "Cassandra came up here, started talking shit about me not being at home and not spending enough time with my kid. So she left," he replied.

             "What you do?" asked Yella.

Minutes later, a police car approached us and two police officers got out of the car.

One asked "excuse me? Aren't you niggas supposed to be somewhere?"

I responded "yeah, we're supposed to be here because we're working."

The other cop laughed and said "oh you're working huh? Yeah I bet you are."

         "What did we do?" asked Dre.

         "We'll find out in a minute what you did."

A few seconds later, two other cops approached the scene. One demanded us to drop everything and to get on the ground.

Ren asked "get on the ground? I'm still eating this sandwich man so what you want me to do with it?"

One cop knocked it out of his hand and he did the same thing to me. I was drinking a soda but he knocked it out of my hand. From that point, I was pissed.

"Get on the ground! Now!" one yelled.

Another cop said "yeah get your punk ass on the ground."

We got on the ground and put our hands behind our back. They started to pat us down.

          "Why you got us on the floor like this officer?" Dre asked.

         "Just shut the hell up and do what you're told. This is LAPD. We're the only gangsters around here," he said while they continued to check us.

Jerry stepped outside to see what the problem was. He saw us on the ground and asked "excuse me officers? Hi, could you tell me what's going on here?"

One officer replied "I'm sorry could you stand back please? We're just trying to check these gang bangers to make sure that they're clean."

Jerry then said "okay I'm sorry but these aren't gang bangers these are artists."

         "Artists? Seriously? Well what kind of artists?" one cop asked.

         "Rappers. And they're working with me right now."

          "Well rap is not an art and I'm sorry who are you?"

     "I'm their manager."

          "Well ok Mr. Manager, these rappers, these clients of yours look like gangmembers."

         "Well you can't arrest people because of what they look like. That's police harassment."

           "We're just doing our job and we call it like we see it."

            "Well you can not come down here and arrest my clients because of what they look like! You can't arrest these guys because they're black!" Jerry yelled.

He then told us to get up.

            "Just step back and I'll get them up. Let's get up guys."

I started to stand up but one cop knocked me back down.

          "You do not tell them to get up! We will decide," said one cop.

          "You have no idea who I am and who I know. I'm going to get the mayor involved."

We laid on the ground for a few seconds and there was complete silence. One cop grinned and said "now get up. Get up now."

We got up and headed back to the studio. We still have a dope ass beat that Dre produced but no lyrics to go along with it. Minutes later, Cube handed me a piece of paper.

           "I got something for this beat," he said.

I read the paper and said "hell yeah Cube I'm feeling this. Let's go start some shit."

            "Fuck the police coming straight from the underground. A young nigga got it bad cuz I'm brown. I'm not the other color so police think they have the authority to call a minority. Fuck that shit cuz I aint the one. For a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun to be beating on, and thrown in jail. We can go toe to toe in the middle of a cell. Fucking with me cuz I'm a teenager. With a little bit of gold and a pager. Searching my car looking for the product. Thinking every nigga is selling narcotics.

After we recorded "Fuck Tha Police", we began to record another song from the album. This will be the lead single.

"Feel a little gust of wind and I'm jetting. But leave a memory no one will be forgetting. So what about the bitch that got shot? Fuck her! You think I give a damn about a bitch? I aint a sucker. This is an autobiography of the E. And if you ever fuck with me you'll get taken by a stupid dope brother who will smother. Word to the motherfucker, straight outta Compton."