Attention!
At this moment you are now listenin to an Ice-T LP.
If you are offended by words like shit, bitch, f*ck, dick, ass, ho,
Cunt, dirty bitch, low motherf*cker, nigga, hooker, slut, tran,
Dirty low slut-tran-bitch-ho, nigga f*ck shit, whatever...
Take the tape out NOW! This is NOT a pop album...
And by the way,
SUCK MY MOTHERFUCKIN DICK!
Ice-T - Home Invasion Album Lyrics
Ice-T - Home Invasion Lyrics
Writer: DEBORAH PARKIN, RICO TYLER, RODERICK GOODE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Its On
[Intro:]
Yo, Ice, the organization say they can't stay in business with us any
longer. What you gonna do?
We always knew we were gonna come to this point sooner or later... we have
absolutely no option but to move forward. We'll have to set up our own
distribution, manufacturing, run a totally indipendent organization and
operation. We still got our connections in Texas, Miami, New York, Chicago,
Detroit and soldiers on the street willing to die. I can't put any cut on
the product... I just can't live like that. But from now on if any cops
get in our way... [3 gunshots]
[Verse 1:]
Turn up the mic, dog
So I can get off
Find me Charlton Heston and we might
Cut his head off
I'm not to be f*cked with
Step in the range of my guage and get bucked quick
Niggas, hoes, I don't know who you are
My friends or foes
Smile in my face
And plot to kill me behind doors
I got a new attitude
No trust
Got me in a corner
All a nigga can do is bust
It may be you
There's gonna be a lot of dead before I'm through
I'm 'bout to break off niggas who play me and dis me
Try to switch from side to side like the ??? ???
The damage is done
Source magazine
You're the first one
You try to dis Chuck, Cube and me
How the f*ck you pick us 3?
You punk motherf*ckers ain't shit
You're just a bunch of hoes
Makin' money off the pros
And when I see I get you in my sights
I give yo' ass a story to write
Cause it's on
[Chorus:]
It's on motherf*cker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! cause it ain't no thang
To put in work and watch your head burst
[Verse 2:]
A lot of fans ain't shiy
Let me repeat:
A lot of fans ain't shiy
Quick to flip if our group don't hit
That don't make you nothin but a pop ho bitch
And I don't need ya
I love to bleed ya
All I ever wanted was a real nigga's praise
But the sad motherf*ckin fact
Is that ain't that many real motherf*ckers these days
Game knows game I know too many who plays the name
And I can make it in the music or the street game
I still got hoes that'll work
Still got crews that'll work
Still roll with an extra clip
And those who think they'll stop me
Doubt it
Those motherf*ckers better think about it
You'd besta let me rap
Ice back on the streets?
You don't want that
Cause I break ill
And you really ???
[Chorus:]
It's on motherf*cker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cause it ain't no thing
To put in work and watch your body jerk
[Verse 3:]
It's on motherf*cker
You Goddamn right it's on
My royalty cheque
Yeah, fool, I write my own
I own my own label
Put my own shit out
So no one tells me what the f*ck to talk about
And all the suckas that said I was through:
You need to wake up to my view
I'm fallen off
Ha! Ha! That's a joke!
You motherf*ckers are still unknown and broke
And I'm stankin' rich
My f*ckin maid lives better than you, bitch
So shut your trap
When it comes to this level of game
You don't know jack
CIA
FBI
IRS
Try to ??? for sweat
But they'll never sweat you son
Cause you're broke
And you're dumb
And you're no threat to no one
Them fools don't play
I gotta deal with those motherf*ckers every day
They'd love to get me behind bars
They hawk a nigga like I'm Carlos Escobar
But in a way I am
Been puttin dope on the street for years
And don't give a damn
So I'm thinkin about them, friend
The real motherf*ckin gangstas wanna see me end
It's gonna end up in a bloodbath
No doubt
That's the only way I'm going out
[Chorus:]
It's on motherf*cker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cause it ain't no thing
To put in work and watch your head burst
Yo, Ice, the organization say they can't stay in business with us any
longer. What you gonna do?
We always knew we were gonna come to this point sooner or later... we have
absolutely no option but to move forward. We'll have to set up our own
distribution, manufacturing, run a totally indipendent organization and
operation. We still got our connections in Texas, Miami, New York, Chicago,
Detroit and soldiers on the street willing to die. I can't put any cut on
the product... I just can't live like that. But from now on if any cops
get in our way... [3 gunshots]
[Verse 1:]
Turn up the mic, dog
So I can get off
Find me Charlton Heston and we might
Cut his head off
I'm not to be f*cked with
Step in the range of my guage and get bucked quick
Niggas, hoes, I don't know who you are
My friends or foes
Smile in my face
And plot to kill me behind doors
I got a new attitude
No trust
Got me in a corner
All a nigga can do is bust
It may be you
There's gonna be a lot of dead before I'm through
I'm 'bout to break off niggas who play me and dis me
Try to switch from side to side like the ??? ???
The damage is done
Source magazine
You're the first one
You try to dis Chuck, Cube and me
How the f*ck you pick us 3?
You punk motherf*ckers ain't shit
You're just a bunch of hoes
Makin' money off the pros
And when I see I get you in my sights
I give yo' ass a story to write
Cause it's on
[Chorus:]
It's on motherf*cker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! cause it ain't no thang
To put in work and watch your head burst
[Verse 2:]
A lot of fans ain't shiy
Let me repeat:
A lot of fans ain't shiy
Quick to flip if our group don't hit
That don't make you nothin but a pop ho bitch
And I don't need ya
I love to bleed ya
All I ever wanted was a real nigga's praise
But the sad motherf*ckin fact
Is that ain't that many real motherf*ckers these days
Game knows game I know too many who plays the name
And I can make it in the music or the street game
I still got hoes that'll work
Still got crews that'll work
Still roll with an extra clip
And those who think they'll stop me
Doubt it
Those motherf*ckers better think about it
You'd besta let me rap
Ice back on the streets?
You don't want that
Cause I break ill
And you really ???
[Chorus:]
It's on motherf*cker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cause it ain't no thing
To put in work and watch your body jerk
[Verse 3:]
It's on motherf*cker
You Goddamn right it's on
My royalty cheque
Yeah, fool, I write my own
I own my own label
Put my own shit out
So no one tells me what the f*ck to talk about
And all the suckas that said I was through:
You need to wake up to my view
I'm fallen off
Ha! Ha! That's a joke!
You motherf*ckers are still unknown and broke
And I'm stankin' rich
My f*ckin maid lives better than you, bitch
So shut your trap
When it comes to this level of game
You don't know jack
CIA
FBI
IRS
Try to ??? for sweat
But they'll never sweat you son
Cause you're broke
And you're dumb
And you're no threat to no one
Them fools don't play
I gotta deal with those motherf*ckers every day
They'd love to get me behind bars
They hawk a nigga like I'm Carlos Escobar
But in a way I am
Been puttin dope on the street for years
And don't give a damn
So I'm thinkin about them, friend
The real motherf*ckin gangstas wanna see me end
It's gonna end up in a bloodbath
No doubt
That's the only way I'm going out
[Chorus:]
It's on motherf*cker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cause it ain't no thing
To put in work and watch your head burst
Writer: B L0
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Ice M.F. T
Yeah! 1993, I'm back motherf*cker, this is Ice T.
Got my nigga Ice Cube in the motherf*ckin house.
Yeah! Up here in the ammo dump studios I got my
Nigga Aladdin, SLJ's in the motherf*ckin place,
Behind the mixin boards,
We about to do dis shit like this here!
Verse 1:
It's goin down tonight in L.A.
Buckshot and uzis spray
Microphone blowa
The bitch checka
The ho wrecka
Ice motherf*ckin T
Nigga step to me
But grab ya hoes quick
Cause the Syndicate's throwin that crazy dick
Punk motherf*ckers run up
You'll get done up
We'll have your ass gunned up
Before sun-up
So what's the color I'm raggin?
Been a millionare for years
Still saggin
Left pocket's stuffed with the ???
.380 in my right so it sags a little bit
More than the rest of my gear
When I'm on tour
I empty clips
Bust lips
And break jaws
Cause I love to loc up
So punk motherf*cker don't choke up
When you're talkin to me
Chorus:
Ice, Ice motherf*ckin T (x4)
Verse 2:
Bush, Quayle and Clinton got a problem with me:
The motheruckin T
I give less than a f*ck about any of them
Or their f*ckin police friends
They'd like to take me out
Make me a goner
They even tryin to sweat Time Warner
Why?
For tellin the truth to the youth
That a lot of motherf*ckers are hot
And want police shot?
You can't stop the shock (?)
The fires are out
But the coals are still hot
I got juice to bring pain
You tryin to f*ck with the Ice
Are you insane?
This shit is bigger than me
Be warned
It's the calm before the storm
And every f*ckin thing I write
Is gonna be analyzed by somebody white
Chorus
Verse 3:
Run motherf*cker, hide motherf*cker, trip motherf*cker, die motherf*cker
You don't give love
And you won't get loved
You don't push
And you won't get shoved
No joke
I ain't here to laugh
I ain't here to cry
But every night of the week
One of my homies die
Eeny meeny mynie moe
Blood's pourin out the naps of your afro
It could be you
Could be you
Could be you
Could be your whole damn crew
It happens real quick
Screechin tires
Next thing you're hit
Your body's cold
Your body's hot
You feel your chest
You gasp for breath
You're shot
And now your homies is trippin'
Lookin for a gat to put they clip in
Street crime-
That's the thing I bring, Ice T
I rap ??? sing
They call it controversy
I call it truth with no mercy
The beats are phat Ammo Dump tracks
The kind that make speakers crack
Not made for squares
Or the weak punks
That made the bump trunks
Press-
Get the f*ck out my f*ckin face
I ain't got no more time to waste
A ho is a ho, a bitch is a bitch, a nigga is a nigga
And that's it
I'm through explainin the shit
You just makin me backtrack
The next duck reporter might get hit with a blackjack
Plus
Every one of my true fans
Totally understands
A nigga like me
Chorus (x2)
Got my nigga Ice Cube in the motherf*ckin house.
Yeah! Up here in the ammo dump studios I got my
Nigga Aladdin, SLJ's in the motherf*ckin place,
Behind the mixin boards,
We about to do dis shit like this here!
Verse 1:
It's goin down tonight in L.A.
Buckshot and uzis spray
Microphone blowa
The bitch checka
The ho wrecka
Ice motherf*ckin T
Nigga step to me
But grab ya hoes quick
Cause the Syndicate's throwin that crazy dick
Punk motherf*ckers run up
You'll get done up
We'll have your ass gunned up
Before sun-up
So what's the color I'm raggin?
Been a millionare for years
Still saggin
Left pocket's stuffed with the ???
.380 in my right so it sags a little bit
More than the rest of my gear
When I'm on tour
I empty clips
Bust lips
And break jaws
Cause I love to loc up
So punk motherf*cker don't choke up
When you're talkin to me
Chorus:
Ice, Ice motherf*ckin T (x4)
Verse 2:
Bush, Quayle and Clinton got a problem with me:
The motheruckin T
I give less than a f*ck about any of them
Or their f*ckin police friends
They'd like to take me out
Make me a goner
They even tryin to sweat Time Warner
Why?
For tellin the truth to the youth
That a lot of motherf*ckers are hot
And want police shot?
You can't stop the shock (?)
The fires are out
But the coals are still hot
I got juice to bring pain
You tryin to f*ck with the Ice
Are you insane?
This shit is bigger than me
Be warned
It's the calm before the storm
And every f*ckin thing I write
Is gonna be analyzed by somebody white
Chorus
Verse 3:
Run motherf*cker, hide motherf*cker, trip motherf*cker, die motherf*cker
You don't give love
And you won't get loved
You don't push
And you won't get shoved
No joke
I ain't here to laugh
I ain't here to cry
But every night of the week
One of my homies die
Eeny meeny mynie moe
Blood's pourin out the naps of your afro
It could be you
Could be you
Could be you
Could be your whole damn crew
It happens real quick
Screechin tires
Next thing you're hit
Your body's cold
Your body's hot
You feel your chest
You gasp for breath
You're shot
And now your homies is trippin'
Lookin for a gat to put they clip in
Street crime-
That's the thing I bring, Ice T
I rap ??? sing
They call it controversy
I call it truth with no mercy
The beats are phat Ammo Dump tracks
The kind that make speakers crack
Not made for squares
Or the weak punks
That made the bump trunks
Press-
Get the f*ck out my f*ckin face
I ain't got no more time to waste
A ho is a ho, a bitch is a bitch, a nigga is a nigga
And that's it
I'm through explainin the shit
You just makin me backtrack
The next duck reporter might get hit with a blackjack
Plus
Every one of my true fans
Totally understands
A nigga like me
Chorus (x2)
Writer: ALPHONSO HENDERSON, TRACY LAUREN MARROW
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Home Invasion
All right! When we go up in this goddamn house
All I want is the motherf*ckin' kids!
As far as pops I don't give a f*ck what you do
Bust him in his motherf*ckin' head!
If he got any money, take it!
If there is money there, rob the motherf*ckin' joint!
As far as moms bust her in her goddamn head!
Dumb bitch, that's the reason we're going up in there!
She don't know what the f*ck she's talkin' about!
Everyone get back, this is a rap jack
I'm takin' your kids' brains, you ain't gettin'em back
With a move of perfection, my dissection
Some call it lethal injection
I'm gonna fill'em with hard drums
Big drums, bitches, hoes and death, come on and get some
I'm not the nigga that you want to leave your kids alone
Cause I got my own opening-dome kit
And once again I'm gonna put them under my f*ckin' spell
They might start givin' you f*ckin' hell
Start changin' the way they walk
They talk, they act, now, whose f*ckin' fault is that?
The home invader
Yo, moms you can basically just suck my dick!
This is a home invasion
Yo, pops that shit you talkin' is noise! Word! You full of shit!
Check this out, moms, I said time bomb
And they sit in your house and remain calm
Till you feed'em lies and the flip
Start talkin' crazy shit (F*ck you!)
Might call you and pops a fool
Tell ya that's why they hate school
Been offensive and askin' questions
Give your brain indigestion
Why? Why? Because I have indoctrinated the youth
Yhey're mentally intoxicated with truth
So they know the noise you talk are lies
Pretty damn soon they'll be by (I'm outta here)
They listen to me and i give'em the real
And every night caps get peeled
And every night a ho gets smacked
A fool gets jacked
Now, whose f*ckin' fault was that?
The home invaders
Yo! Yo! Yo!
All that shit you taught me, mom, was full of shit!
Know what I'm sayin'?
How the f*ck you gonna tell me to run my motherf*ckin' life?
Bitch! You don't even know who the f*ck you are!
You talkin' about you don't like rap, you don't like how I dress!
Yo! F*ck you and pops! I'm outta here!
Both of y'all can kiss my ass
All cops want me, so does the F.B.I.
Because my rhymes are fly
They still tryin' to stop m,e shut me down block me
Make motherf*ckas boycott me
But that will never happen, it's impossible
I move straight through all obstacles
They say I'm f*ckin' up the minds of little kids
But half of my fans are in college
P.M.R.C. suck my dick, please
You can kiss my ass while you're on your knees
Word! You're listening to the verbal assassinator
E's the crossfader, your factual updater
Until your cranium grows like uranium
Hard as titanium, parents, I'm blamin'em
For teachin' you lies about life, racist viewpoints
And other trite bullshit they learned back in the day
While I learned about death from an A.K.
But they'll never quite understand
Bam, bam, bam, no gat is the Walkman
Boom, bash, yeah, yo, it's goin' down
Me and Ice Cube are in town
But the f*ckin' pigs cancelled the concert
They're just scared of some niggers that do work
What they do? What did I do?
Just say truth motherf*cka and it's comin' through
I tell you what we did: we stole your f*ckin' kids
The home invader
All right! we got the motherf*ckin' kids!
We outta here! c'mon
All I want is the motherf*ckin' kids!
As far as pops I don't give a f*ck what you do
Bust him in his motherf*ckin' head!
If he got any money, take it!
If there is money there, rob the motherf*ckin' joint!
As far as moms bust her in her goddamn head!
Dumb bitch, that's the reason we're going up in there!
She don't know what the f*ck she's talkin' about!
Everyone get back, this is a rap jack
I'm takin' your kids' brains, you ain't gettin'em back
With a move of perfection, my dissection
Some call it lethal injection
I'm gonna fill'em with hard drums
Big drums, bitches, hoes and death, come on and get some
I'm not the nigga that you want to leave your kids alone
Cause I got my own opening-dome kit
And once again I'm gonna put them under my f*ckin' spell
They might start givin' you f*ckin' hell
Start changin' the way they walk
They talk, they act, now, whose f*ckin' fault is that?
The home invader
Yo, moms you can basically just suck my dick!
This is a home invasion
Yo, pops that shit you talkin' is noise! Word! You full of shit!
Check this out, moms, I said time bomb
And they sit in your house and remain calm
Till you feed'em lies and the flip
Start talkin' crazy shit (F*ck you!)
Might call you and pops a fool
Tell ya that's why they hate school
Been offensive and askin' questions
Give your brain indigestion
Why? Why? Because I have indoctrinated the youth
Yhey're mentally intoxicated with truth
So they know the noise you talk are lies
Pretty damn soon they'll be by (I'm outta here)
They listen to me and i give'em the real
And every night caps get peeled
And every night a ho gets smacked
A fool gets jacked
Now, whose f*ckin' fault was that?
The home invaders
Yo! Yo! Yo!
All that shit you taught me, mom, was full of shit!
Know what I'm sayin'?
How the f*ck you gonna tell me to run my motherf*ckin' life?
Bitch! You don't even know who the f*ck you are!
You talkin' about you don't like rap, you don't like how I dress!
Yo! F*ck you and pops! I'm outta here!
Both of y'all can kiss my ass
All cops want me, so does the F.B.I.
Because my rhymes are fly
They still tryin' to stop m,e shut me down block me
Make motherf*ckas boycott me
But that will never happen, it's impossible
I move straight through all obstacles
They say I'm f*ckin' up the minds of little kids
But half of my fans are in college
P.M.R.C. suck my dick, please
You can kiss my ass while you're on your knees
Word! You're listening to the verbal assassinator
E's the crossfader, your factual updater
Until your cranium grows like uranium
Hard as titanium, parents, I'm blamin'em
For teachin' you lies about life, racist viewpoints
And other trite bullshit they learned back in the day
While I learned about death from an A.K.
But they'll never quite understand
Bam, bam, bam, no gat is the Walkman
Boom, bash, yeah, yo, it's goin' down
Me and Ice Cube are in town
But the f*ckin' pigs cancelled the concert
They're just scared of some niggers that do work
What they do? What did I do?
Just say truth motherf*cka and it's comin' through
I tell you what we did: we stole your f*ckin' kids
The home invader
All right! we got the motherf*ckin' kids!
We outta here! c'mon
Writer: George Clinton Jr., William Bootsy Collins, Alphonso Henderson, Tracy Marrow, Bernard Worrell
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., A SIDE MUSIC LLC D/B/A MODERN WORKS MUSIC PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., A SIDE MUSIC LLC D/B/A MODERN WORKS MUSIC PUBLISHING
G-Style
Intro:
Yeah! Right about now motherf*ckers is layin for a nigga like me Ice-T
To bust some freestyle shit... but I don't do that
I just cold lounge up here at the Ammo Dump
With my nigga Alladdin, SLJ, LP and my nigga Henry G
Yeah, we do the shit like this
Verse One:
The card after the ace is deuce
So cut the nigga loose on the 3
That's me
The motherf*ckin T
I got ride on my surfboard
Rhyme hard
But only buy the shit that I can't afford
That's everything
That's why I truck big fat rings
Cause in the motherland gold is for kings
I got backup
To jack up
Punks who try to act up
Do a world tour
Watch the big bank stack up
Motherf*ckers get dropped with the quickness
I got an ill left and a right fist
Make mistakes and you'll lose
Or you might die
Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your bruise
And that's no lie
Meanwhile the penile is stacked to the top with my niggaz
Mostly for squeezin triggas
I call em homies
Pigs call em crooks
So I write and put bucks on they books
I give a f*ck about a cop or a G-man
They all talk shit
Their breath smellin like semen
I catch em in the alley all alone
Put em in the prone
Pop! Pop! Pop! To the dome
Chorus:
It's the G-style
Gangsta style
Verse 2:
G Style, The gangsta talk
I got a teflon .9
And it eats vest
I take a motherf*cker out quick
Just for talkin shit
Ride Rolls
Catch hoes like a mitt
LA, Atlanta, New York
Yo, my shit rocks
Chi-town, Miami, Detroit
I get much props
Because I roll with the hardcore G
Every street's the same street to me
I don't bullshit
I don't quit
Writin a rhyme fit
KKK pray each day
That I get hit
Motherf*ckers try to flip on the Icepick
Move and slip
Close the eyes and catch a f*ckin clip
Not in the ghetto no more
But I do hang
Got a black game
And it's sittin on them thangs
I kick the game from the street
Not the slamma
Tighten up my knockas with a big lead hammer
Chorus
Verse Three:
Some of the times
I write my raps with extreme speed
Some of the times
I take the pen and make pads bleed
My mind clicks to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A lot of people die
Some nights I can't right
Stare at the blue lines
I think I'm a go blind
Then the beat becomes me
Sit in the dark
And write a whole f*ckin LP
G Style, the gangsta talk
Never near soft
Hard as a knockout bout
It's no sellout
I keep crime in my rhyme
Cause it's my thing
Packed with guns
And drugs
And lots of street slang
A-be -see-D-E-F, and LAPD
Words from a motherf*ckin OG
Ammo Dump pumps the sounds that you bump in your trunk
So turn it up punk
What'cha fraid of?
What'cha made of?
Pull the pin
Set the grenade off
Blastin sounds out ya jeep
On every city street, nigga
Straight gangsta beat
Chorus
Verse Four:
Many like to dress the style, and act hardcore
Many motherf*ckers are and they crack jaws
I like to lay in the cut
In a nightclub
Don't smoke bud
Drink suds
But I gets loved, mack, cool
I scope the freak with the mad backs
Hit her with the gangsta style
Cool, relaxed, bam
Put her in the Benz
Bump Too $hort, let her know
Right off the top, what's my sport
You think long
You think wrong
You got it goin on, baby doll?
But I won't sing you no love song
You either love me
Or you don't
You're either rollin tonight
Or you won't
She likes the style
Cause it don't bullshit around
Tongue in my ear, real slow
And then it went down
I gotta flip into a ill mode
Pack a clip full of hype tracks
And then unload
Music for the hardcore beatdown
No weak pop shit
Strictly underground
And if you don't like the style, as I get wreck
Ease back nigga, catch a knife through the neck
Chorus
Yeah! Right about now motherf*ckers is layin for a nigga like me Ice-T
To bust some freestyle shit... but I don't do that
I just cold lounge up here at the Ammo Dump
With my nigga Alladdin, SLJ, LP and my nigga Henry G
Yeah, we do the shit like this
Verse One:
The card after the ace is deuce
So cut the nigga loose on the 3
That's me
The motherf*ckin T
I got ride on my surfboard
Rhyme hard
But only buy the shit that I can't afford
That's everything
That's why I truck big fat rings
Cause in the motherland gold is for kings
I got backup
To jack up
Punks who try to act up
Do a world tour
Watch the big bank stack up
Motherf*ckers get dropped with the quickness
I got an ill left and a right fist
Make mistakes and you'll lose
Or you might die
Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your bruise
And that's no lie
Meanwhile the penile is stacked to the top with my niggaz
Mostly for squeezin triggas
I call em homies
Pigs call em crooks
So I write and put bucks on they books
I give a f*ck about a cop or a G-man
They all talk shit
Their breath smellin like semen
I catch em in the alley all alone
Put em in the prone
Pop! Pop! Pop! To the dome
Chorus:
It's the G-style
Gangsta style
Verse 2:
G Style, The gangsta talk
I got a teflon .9
And it eats vest
I take a motherf*cker out quick
Just for talkin shit
Ride Rolls
Catch hoes like a mitt
LA, Atlanta, New York
Yo, my shit rocks
Chi-town, Miami, Detroit
I get much props
Because I roll with the hardcore G
Every street's the same street to me
I don't bullshit
I don't quit
Writin a rhyme fit
KKK pray each day
That I get hit
Motherf*ckers try to flip on the Icepick
Move and slip
Close the eyes and catch a f*ckin clip
Not in the ghetto no more
But I do hang
Got a black game
And it's sittin on them thangs
I kick the game from the street
Not the slamma
Tighten up my knockas with a big lead hammer
Chorus
Verse Three:
Some of the times
I write my raps with extreme speed
Some of the times
I take the pen and make pads bleed
My mind clicks to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A lot of people die
Some nights I can't right
Stare at the blue lines
I think I'm a go blind
Then the beat becomes me
Sit in the dark
And write a whole f*ckin LP
G Style, the gangsta talk
Never near soft
Hard as a knockout bout
It's no sellout
I keep crime in my rhyme
Cause it's my thing
Packed with guns
And drugs
And lots of street slang
A-be -see-D-E-F, and LAPD
Words from a motherf*ckin OG
Ammo Dump pumps the sounds that you bump in your trunk
So turn it up punk
What'cha fraid of?
What'cha made of?
Pull the pin
Set the grenade off
Blastin sounds out ya jeep
On every city street, nigga
Straight gangsta beat
Chorus
Verse Four:
Many like to dress the style, and act hardcore
Many motherf*ckers are and they crack jaws
I like to lay in the cut
In a nightclub
Don't smoke bud
Drink suds
But I gets loved, mack, cool
I scope the freak with the mad backs
Hit her with the gangsta style
Cool, relaxed, bam
Put her in the Benz
Bump Too $hort, let her know
Right off the top, what's my sport
You think long
You think wrong
You got it goin on, baby doll?
But I won't sing you no love song
You either love me
Or you don't
You're either rollin tonight
Or you won't
She likes the style
Cause it don't bullshit around
Tongue in my ear, real slow
And then it went down
I gotta flip into a ill mode
Pack a clip full of hype tracks
And then unload
Music for the hardcore beatdown
No weak pop shit
Strictly underground
And if you don't like the style, as I get wreck
Ease back nigga, catch a knife through the neck
Chorus
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, HENRY D GARCIA, WINSTON WENDELL L
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Addicted to Danger
"Yo what's up man? Yeah I gotta trunk fulla this shit
Word, broads still with me man, comin over to grapevine right now
Yo I can't talk right now man, I gotta get off this phone"
Damn, how'd I get into this scam
Roll in a car with the trunk worth 5000 grand
I came up from the curb, word
First thing it rocks, now my ride's packin crazy birds
I gotta freak in the front seat
She got crazy game, might even have more than me
And that's why I don't trust, I ain't no busta
One wrong move and I'll dust her
But she knows that, keeps a gat
Works much plastic, always stays on phat
She said she loves me
Looks deep in my eyes, sometimes cries, all lies
She only loves my cash flow, long dough
The falso love of a pimp and a hoe
But me and her gotta job to do
Get this luggage back to the crew
She got scanner, I hadta listen to the pigs talk
And if they speakin about us then its jumpin off
But I ain't sweatin them at all
2 cops'll roll up and 2 cops'll fall
The lines on the highway, I'm makin my mind drift away
To my last jail stay
5 years for a 459
I'm never goin back, no matter what the crime
Surrenderin ain't me
F*ck that, I'm holdin court in the street G
For a nigga like me there ain't no ounce
My life filled with drug busts and shoot outs
Pure ghetto anger, pure ghetto anger
Pure ghetto anger, I'm addicted to danger
Some nights I crash clubs
Rollin with the posse made of well-known thugs
Cool out with the freaks
Truckin much jewels, beggin for beef
Thens some niggaz roll up
Lookin for a way to pump the reps up
But I ain't the one
I'm handin out beat downs, no need for guns
Sometimes I gotta ask myself
Is all this buck whylin good for a niggaz health?
I don't know why
Am I suicidal, do I want to die?
The answerin, simple
A headache throbs in my temple
It says it ain't fair, it says it ain't right
It says its goin down tonight
We finally made it to the drop spot
King and Weston Ave, snoody fox
The posse was there, but it ain't right
F*ckin police lights
Its all goin down that road blocks
I never seen that many cops
It was a setup, my whole damn crew's gettin wet up
Big time, some motherf*cker dropped a dime
But even in the flurry of gun shots
My adrenaline was boilin hot
I crash down on the floor of the ride
Punch the gas, drove that benz through they punk ass
Hit Vernor doin 90
Looked in the rear-view, no one behind me
I got on the phone
Called up the homies to see what went wrong
But no time to sweat that
I still gotta trunk fulla shit, I was on phat
I just need a cool place to hide
Dumped the benzo, slammed the G ride
Me and a freak hit a motel crash spot
The streets was hot
Rubbed me down, said she adored me
Said the gunfire made her horny
The she pushed me back on the bed
Licked me head to toe, toe to head
Then I closed my eyes real slowly
Is this love? No not me
Then I felt a pain in my chest
The smell of gun powder and burnt flesh
I looked in her face, opened my mouth
And then her badge came out
Word, broads still with me man, comin over to grapevine right now
Yo I can't talk right now man, I gotta get off this phone"
Damn, how'd I get into this scam
Roll in a car with the trunk worth 5000 grand
I came up from the curb, word
First thing it rocks, now my ride's packin crazy birds
I gotta freak in the front seat
She got crazy game, might even have more than me
And that's why I don't trust, I ain't no busta
One wrong move and I'll dust her
But she knows that, keeps a gat
Works much plastic, always stays on phat
She said she loves me
Looks deep in my eyes, sometimes cries, all lies
She only loves my cash flow, long dough
The falso love of a pimp and a hoe
But me and her gotta job to do
Get this luggage back to the crew
She got scanner, I hadta listen to the pigs talk
And if they speakin about us then its jumpin off
But I ain't sweatin them at all
2 cops'll roll up and 2 cops'll fall
The lines on the highway, I'm makin my mind drift away
To my last jail stay
5 years for a 459
I'm never goin back, no matter what the crime
Surrenderin ain't me
F*ck that, I'm holdin court in the street G
For a nigga like me there ain't no ounce
My life filled with drug busts and shoot outs
Pure ghetto anger, pure ghetto anger
Pure ghetto anger, I'm addicted to danger
Some nights I crash clubs
Rollin with the posse made of well-known thugs
Cool out with the freaks
Truckin much jewels, beggin for beef
Thens some niggaz roll up
Lookin for a way to pump the reps up
But I ain't the one
I'm handin out beat downs, no need for guns
Sometimes I gotta ask myself
Is all this buck whylin good for a niggaz health?
I don't know why
Am I suicidal, do I want to die?
The answerin, simple
A headache throbs in my temple
It says it ain't fair, it says it ain't right
It says its goin down tonight
We finally made it to the drop spot
King and Weston Ave, snoody fox
The posse was there, but it ain't right
F*ckin police lights
Its all goin down that road blocks
I never seen that many cops
It was a setup, my whole damn crew's gettin wet up
Big time, some motherf*cker dropped a dime
But even in the flurry of gun shots
My adrenaline was boilin hot
I crash down on the floor of the ride
Punch the gas, drove that benz through they punk ass
Hit Vernor doin 90
Looked in the rear-view, no one behind me
I got on the phone
Called up the homies to see what went wrong
But no time to sweat that
I still gotta trunk fulla shit, I was on phat
I just need a cool place to hide
Dumped the benzo, slammed the G ride
Me and a freak hit a motel crash spot
The streets was hot
Rubbed me down, said she adored me
Said the gunfire made her horny
The she pushed me back on the bed
Licked me head to toe, toe to head
Then I closed my eyes real slowly
Is this love? No not me
Then I felt a pain in my chest
The smell of gun powder and burnt flesh
I looked in her face, opened my mouth
And then her badge came out
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, ALPHONSO HENDERSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Question And Answer
Question and answer:
What does a rapper do when he starts out hardcore, but can't sell enough records to remain in the record business?
Answer: He goes pop...
This answer is not set up to diss anybody who starts out pop, but for the rappers who started out hardcore, and now are making weak-ass dance music, cause they couldn't stay down with the hardcore
I just got a question for you:
How does it feel to wake up every morning, and look in the mirror and realize, that you're a f*ckin ho?
What does a rapper do when he starts out hardcore, but can't sell enough records to remain in the record business?
Answer: He goes pop...
This answer is not set up to diss anybody who starts out pop, but for the rappers who started out hardcore, and now are making weak-ass dance music, cause they couldn't stay down with the hardcore
I just got a question for you:
How does it feel to wake up every morning, and look in the mirror and realize, that you're a f*ckin ho?
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Watch the Ice Break
It's goin down
From the Ammo Dump
I got my nigga SLJ and DJ Aladdin
Droppin the fat tracks
Hit em with it
Syndicate's in the muthaf*ckin house
All duck MC's get flat, muthf*ckas
Yeah
1993
And it's still me
A rappin brother from L.A., the cool T
Diss a brother, hate a brother, I still come back
With the fat tracks, f*ck the pop crap
I got a mind to cold diss a fool
Wack rappers sellin out urge me to pull tools
For no reason
Pop suckers hookin for hits like hoes skeezin
Prostitutes that can't shoot, yet you clock loot
Dancesteps with the weak styles, but you look cute
Bitch, that shit's wack
Let Hammer dance, and you other fools ease back
The microphone in some twist in a clenched fist
Mind locked on ???? load of my hit list
And make duck rappers pray
Many talk shit, but none step this way
Cause I'm quick to beat down a weak clown
Clock crazy juice from L.A. to the Boogie Down
I play the whole map
Got hoes locked like a muthaf*ckin bear trap
Ice muthaf*ckin T
Before hoes gee they need two forms of I.D.
Never fess, not the best, but I'm hard to shake
Huh, watch the Ice break
Watch the Ice break
Yo, let's see now who's tryin to diss me
Say I sold out cause I rocked with the B.C.
Y'all are bitches, you're straight wack
Quick to talk shit, but always behind the back
I do whatever I want to do, punk hoe
I rock a perm, you rock an afro
I wear khakis, while y'all wear silk
Y'all drink forties, and I drink milk
Cause that's my muthaf*ckin biz
I never sell out, cause it's no sale, kid
Hardcore to my heart from the f*ckin start
Whether done over beats or loud guitars
I drop the dope hits
Case you forgot, I invented this gangsta shit
You want to step to me? New jack, walk
Come back in five LP's, then we can talk
You're just new, kid, you got a hit out
In interviews you talk a lotta shit out
You got paid, you really made out
You went broke when your one jam played out
Now you're searchin for that one more hit
Shhhiiit
I ain't new to this, I got gangs of gold
I come original, then I break the mold
Too many MC's hit, then fold
They're just fakes
Hah, watch the Ice break
Watch the Ice break
Yeah
Syndicate jumpin off 1993
On some old fly smooth shit
All the muthf*ckas out there down with us
You know what I'm sayin?
We're rollin strong
All the busters out there that got some static to say
We're settin this shit off physically this year
Like KRS-One says:
Sucker MC's duck down
Muthaf*ckas ain't takin no shit
I'm swingin on busters, point-blank
Diss me and it's on
Straight up
Now it's the break of dawn
And the mic is still on
All hoes are f*ckin and the rhymes are damn strong
Many MC's that choke from the mic smoke
Those who tried to get with me
Lost in rhyme infinity
Or they lost breath
Try to step to the Ice equals sure death
Cause ??it's then I begin?? than you ever assume
Drop the mic, go rap in your living room
I love the quick kill
Swing on a nigga sometimes just to break ill
Knuckle up, buster, fool, in his f*ckin eye
All hands, I need no gun, yo punk, why?
Cause if I pull my gun, you die
No second try
I gotta cool out now, so I don't over-freeze
Nut up and start murderin MC's
Start catchin bodies from state to state
Throw on a ski mask and walk the streets late
And do me up a whole damn crew
The Geto Boys was trippin, but my mind's trickin me too
Cause diss me, and I meet you one day
And bet your life it won't be a fun day
I hope, nigga, it's not your fate
That you're around when the Ice breaks
When the Ice breaks
From the Ammo Dump
I got my nigga SLJ and DJ Aladdin
Droppin the fat tracks
Hit em with it
Syndicate's in the muthaf*ckin house
All duck MC's get flat, muthf*ckas
Yeah
1993
And it's still me
A rappin brother from L.A., the cool T
Diss a brother, hate a brother, I still come back
With the fat tracks, f*ck the pop crap
I got a mind to cold diss a fool
Wack rappers sellin out urge me to pull tools
For no reason
Pop suckers hookin for hits like hoes skeezin
Prostitutes that can't shoot, yet you clock loot
Dancesteps with the weak styles, but you look cute
Bitch, that shit's wack
Let Hammer dance, and you other fools ease back
The microphone in some twist in a clenched fist
Mind locked on ???? load of my hit list
And make duck rappers pray
Many talk shit, but none step this way
Cause I'm quick to beat down a weak clown
Clock crazy juice from L.A. to the Boogie Down
I play the whole map
Got hoes locked like a muthaf*ckin bear trap
Ice muthaf*ckin T
Before hoes gee they need two forms of I.D.
Never fess, not the best, but I'm hard to shake
Huh, watch the Ice break
Watch the Ice break
Yo, let's see now who's tryin to diss me
Say I sold out cause I rocked with the B.C.
Y'all are bitches, you're straight wack
Quick to talk shit, but always behind the back
I do whatever I want to do, punk hoe
I rock a perm, you rock an afro
I wear khakis, while y'all wear silk
Y'all drink forties, and I drink milk
Cause that's my muthaf*ckin biz
I never sell out, cause it's no sale, kid
Hardcore to my heart from the f*ckin start
Whether done over beats or loud guitars
I drop the dope hits
Case you forgot, I invented this gangsta shit
You want to step to me? New jack, walk
Come back in five LP's, then we can talk
You're just new, kid, you got a hit out
In interviews you talk a lotta shit out
You got paid, you really made out
You went broke when your one jam played out
Now you're searchin for that one more hit
Shhhiiit
I ain't new to this, I got gangs of gold
I come original, then I break the mold
Too many MC's hit, then fold
They're just fakes
Hah, watch the Ice break
Watch the Ice break
Yeah
Syndicate jumpin off 1993
On some old fly smooth shit
All the muthf*ckas out there down with us
You know what I'm sayin?
We're rollin strong
All the busters out there that got some static to say
We're settin this shit off physically this year
Like KRS-One says:
Sucker MC's duck down
Muthaf*ckas ain't takin no shit
I'm swingin on busters, point-blank
Diss me and it's on
Straight up
Now it's the break of dawn
And the mic is still on
All hoes are f*ckin and the rhymes are damn strong
Many MC's that choke from the mic smoke
Those who tried to get with me
Lost in rhyme infinity
Or they lost breath
Try to step to the Ice equals sure death
Cause ??it's then I begin?? than you ever assume
Drop the mic, go rap in your living room
I love the quick kill
Swing on a nigga sometimes just to break ill
Knuckle up, buster, fool, in his f*ckin eye
All hands, I need no gun, yo punk, why?
Cause if I pull my gun, you die
No second try
I gotta cool out now, so I don't over-freeze
Nut up and start murderin MC's
Start catchin bodies from state to state
Throw on a ski mask and walk the streets late
And do me up a whole damn crew
The Geto Boys was trippin, but my mind's trickin me too
Cause diss me, and I meet you one day
And bet your life it won't be a fun day
I hope, nigga, it's not your fate
That you're around when the Ice breaks
When the Ice breaks
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, ALPHONSO HENDERSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Race War
Yeah
Yeah
Check this out: now I'm black
But black people trip
'Cause white people like me
White people like me
But don't like them
What's the f*ck up
Are you my friend?
Hell no, you're a racist
You say you got one black friend, so you're in
Sorry homie, no win
Check the facts
Mexicans are still gettin' pushed to the back
Puerto-Ricans gettin' dissed the same
Won't speak on the Indians, shit's insane
F*ck John Wayne
I don't hate whites
I just got a death wish for muthaf*ckas that ain't right
You got black skin
Still you gotta show and prove, friend
Back to the facts
What about Australia?
A f*ckin' failure
The Aboriginal people are black
So they got jacked
You ask me about free speech and the Riots?
So what's in store?
I'm talkin' bout a race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
People gettin' killed in the street
Blood on your feet, the ends don't meet
And who they gonna blame it on, me?
Try the media
Try the PD
Try your TV
Try your quest for wealth
Anybody but yourself
But once the bullets start flyin'
People start dyin'
It's all because we're lyin'
History books that teach hate
A kid has no escape
From the racist fate
And pretty soon South Africa
Will stop chillin'
And start killin'
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Every night I pray
That people get this shit together one day
But this country ain't with it
America was founded on that racist shit
I judge the devil by his deeds
It's usually connected to the size of his greed
And keep the hope
Even though they'd love to give a nigga like me the rope
And when this shit hits
There's gonna be a lotta white kids rollin' with the Africans
You can't sweat skin
'Cause there be a lot of blacks is down with the Republicans
This shit don't have to happen
That's why a brother like me's still rappin'
Just treat each other right
Either that, or you're lookin' for a sure fight
F*ck the police
We already know they ain't about no f*ckin' peace
You want to know what I think's in store?
Justice or a race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Korean people live down in the hood
A little mis-f*ckin'-understood
Orientals were slaves too
Word to this f*ckin' red white and blue
People from Iran ain't never did shit to us
So why the distrust?
The system want to keep us at each other's throats
While we're payin' the tax notes
'Cause bein' black ain't no f*ckin' minority
It's the f*ckin' majority
So they gotta make us hate each other
Word, check the brothers
Mexicans black
Jamaicans black
Iranians black
Indians black
Hawaiians black
Puerto-Ricans black
Eskimos black
South-Americans black
Orientals black
Yeah, that's right
The Klan says everything's black that ain't white
So we gotta get our facts straight
'Cause the shit they teach in school is pure hate
Sometimes I don't know for sure
If somebody want a race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Who wants a race war?
We're gonna lose
Yeah
Check this out: now I'm black
But black people trip
'Cause white people like me
White people like me
But don't like them
What's the f*ck up
Are you my friend?
Hell no, you're a racist
You say you got one black friend, so you're in
Sorry homie, no win
Check the facts
Mexicans are still gettin' pushed to the back
Puerto-Ricans gettin' dissed the same
Won't speak on the Indians, shit's insane
F*ck John Wayne
I don't hate whites
I just got a death wish for muthaf*ckas that ain't right
You got black skin
Still you gotta show and prove, friend
Back to the facts
What about Australia?
A f*ckin' failure
The Aboriginal people are black
So they got jacked
You ask me about free speech and the Riots?
So what's in store?
I'm talkin' bout a race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
People gettin' killed in the street
Blood on your feet, the ends don't meet
And who they gonna blame it on, me?
Try the media
Try the PD
Try your TV
Try your quest for wealth
Anybody but yourself
But once the bullets start flyin'
People start dyin'
It's all because we're lyin'
History books that teach hate
A kid has no escape
From the racist fate
And pretty soon South Africa
Will stop chillin'
And start killin'
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Race war
Every night I pray
That people get this shit together one day
But this country ain't with it
America was founded on that racist shit
I judge the devil by his deeds
It's usually connected to the size of his greed
And keep the hope
Even though they'd love to give a nigga like me the rope
And when this shit hits
There's gonna be a lotta white kids rollin' with the Africans
You can't sweat skin
'Cause there be a lot of blacks is down with the Republicans
This shit don't have to happen
That's why a brother like me's still rappin'
Just treat each other right
Either that, or you're lookin' for a sure fight
F*ck the police
We already know they ain't about no f*ckin' peace
You want to know what I think's in store?
Justice or a race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Korean people live down in the hood
A little mis-f*ckin'-understood
Orientals were slaves too
Word to this f*ckin' red white and blue
People from Iran ain't never did shit to us
So why the distrust?
The system want to keep us at each other's throats
While we're payin' the tax notes
'Cause bein' black ain't no f*ckin' minority
It's the f*ckin' majority
So they gotta make us hate each other
Word, check the brothers
Mexicans black
Jamaicans black
Iranians black
Indians black
Hawaiians black
Puerto-Ricans black
Eskimos black
South-Americans black
Orientals black
Yeah, that's right
The Klan says everything's black that ain't white
So we gotta get our facts straight
'Cause the shit they teach in school is pure hate
Sometimes I don't know for sure
If somebody want a race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Race war
(Get yourself together)
(Open your eyes
Get wise)
(Put your brain in gear)
Who wants a race war?
We're gonna lose
Writer: ALPHONSO HENDERSON, TRACY LAUREN MARROW
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Thats How Im Livin
I was born in new jersey, I said it before
But I guess nobody heard me
My mother died young
No sistas or brothas, I was the only son
When I was twelve my pops died too
What a brotha was supposed to do?
They sent me out West
To live with my aunt
I guess they though it was the best
But there was no love there
Growin' with no moms
I guess I was prepared to live in a vacuum
The bedroom the kitchen, the hall and the bathroom
I didn't leave home much, didn't like L.A.
Didn't have no friends to trust
Got busted to a school
Blacks and whites, I guess the shit was cool
But in highschool I changed
Didn't want to bust, didn't want to play the game
I walked to Crenshaw high, shit was fly
I hooked up with new cru
Some brothas that knew what the f*ck to do
You might call it gang but we called it a set
And it was our own thang
The whole school was down
And one way or another everybody f*cked around
When the hardcore or not
You wore the right color or your ass got shot
That's how i'm livin'...
I did three years in and made close friends
Havin' no love my homies came my only
I was glad: a family I never had
But I grew up fast got a girl on 10th grade pregnant
Needin' cash, I had to change my style
Switched from bangin' to hustlin'
No more goin' buckwild
Had to get a cashflow
But my hustle was weak, it was a no go
I join the army, four years in that shit
Be all f*cked you can be
Came back to the hood
My homies had done good
Had elevated their game
About 100 gees a lick, no mothaf*ckin' shame
Passed for the jewels
Baby sledgehammers with the tools
I speak on this with a hesitation
Even though it passed the statue of limitation...
I checked the bank
Bought a porsche and gear, earn high streetrank
But as I grew my whole crew fell through
Cops had us on the books as innerstate crooks
Murder robbery rape escape, the whole damn nine
You robbed a nigga blind
I had too much juice, I cut my boosters loose
I was intread with the pimpgame
Took on the ice-name
But the pimpgame moved too slow
Especially for a nigga who was hooked on quick dough
In one night late I was in a carwreck
And I was lucky to escape
Hospital for teen weeks, in bed almost dead
And when I got well, I got gaught in a cross
And got locked in a jailcell
That's how I'm livin'...
They cutted me loose
And I had to change troops
This time they didn't catch me
Next time they'll strecth me
Cause my time was gettin' short
All my homies was in court
Or locked in a hole, this shit was gettin' old
So I changed my life
Putted down the gun and picked up the mic
It took ten years to get from there to here
But I still keep a gun, cops got me on the run
And they hate me more now
Than they ever did before
My homies came back from pen
And we all worked together
True friends but every once and while
Some punk mistakes me as a junk
And he gets in my face
Wrong mothaf*ckin' place
And I ain't lyin', that's how you dyin'...
But I guess nobody heard me
My mother died young
No sistas or brothas, I was the only son
When I was twelve my pops died too
What a brotha was supposed to do?
They sent me out West
To live with my aunt
I guess they though it was the best
But there was no love there
Growin' with no moms
I guess I was prepared to live in a vacuum
The bedroom the kitchen, the hall and the bathroom
I didn't leave home much, didn't like L.A.
Didn't have no friends to trust
Got busted to a school
Blacks and whites, I guess the shit was cool
But in highschool I changed
Didn't want to bust, didn't want to play the game
I walked to Crenshaw high, shit was fly
I hooked up with new cru
Some brothas that knew what the f*ck to do
You might call it gang but we called it a set
And it was our own thang
The whole school was down
And one way or another everybody f*cked around
When the hardcore or not
You wore the right color or your ass got shot
That's how i'm livin'...
I did three years in and made close friends
Havin' no love my homies came my only
I was glad: a family I never had
But I grew up fast got a girl on 10th grade pregnant
Needin' cash, I had to change my style
Switched from bangin' to hustlin'
No more goin' buckwild
Had to get a cashflow
But my hustle was weak, it was a no go
I join the army, four years in that shit
Be all f*cked you can be
Came back to the hood
My homies had done good
Had elevated their game
About 100 gees a lick, no mothaf*ckin' shame
Passed for the jewels
Baby sledgehammers with the tools
I speak on this with a hesitation
Even though it passed the statue of limitation...
I checked the bank
Bought a porsche and gear, earn high streetrank
But as I grew my whole crew fell through
Cops had us on the books as innerstate crooks
Murder robbery rape escape, the whole damn nine
You robbed a nigga blind
I had too much juice, I cut my boosters loose
I was intread with the pimpgame
Took on the ice-name
But the pimpgame moved too slow
Especially for a nigga who was hooked on quick dough
In one night late I was in a carwreck
And I was lucky to escape
Hospital for teen weeks, in bed almost dead
And when I got well, I got gaught in a cross
And got locked in a jailcell
That's how I'm livin'...
They cutted me loose
And I had to change troops
This time they didn't catch me
Next time they'll strecth me
Cause my time was gettin' short
All my homies was in court
Or locked in a hole, this shit was gettin' old
So I changed my life
Putted down the gun and picked up the mic
It took ten years to get from there to here
But I still keep a gun, cops got me on the run
And they hate me more now
Than they ever did before
My homies came back from pen
And we all worked together
True friends but every once and while
Some punk mistakes me as a junk
And he gets in my face
Wrong mothaf*ckin' place
And I ain't lyin', that's how you dyin'...
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, ALPHONSO HENDERSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
I Aint New Ta This
Come on
Come on
[ VERSE 1 ]
Do this, ugh, come on, come on
Time to get wreck and kick the so on and so on
The I-see-e-T
O.G. M.C.
L.A.P.D.
H-a-t-e-
S (Ho!)
Watch the mic blow
I flip scripts, and the Dump drops the Ammo
Time to get wreck with the new style
It's '93 and MC's are gettin buck wild
But I - ain't a - nigga
That's gonna get left with a big zero as a figure
I'm gonna end up with a big sum
Cause if you don't like one jam, I always got another one
Different, specifically I don't copy
Tear up the track if the flow sounds sloppy
I don't play one game
I bust about a dozen cuts on my lp's, none the same
[ CHORUS ]
I ain't new to this
I ain't new to this
Never been
New to this
Nigga
New to this
I ain't new to this
Fool
New to this
F*ck around and catch a left and a right fist
[ VERSE 2 ]
Boom bam, I drop fat slang
When I used to hustle, used to be down with the crack game
When I was young, I used to roll with a street gang
If you want to squabble, muthaf*cka, it ain't no thang
I ain't new to this, I ain't new to this
Blow your dome, I hit quick as a pugilist
Ugh, ah, what's up? Now your eyes swoll'
Thought I went soft, cause my records went gold
(Sucker) Buster, you'se a - muthaf*ckin punk fool
Caught you in your eye while you reached for your tool
Now it's mine, and you're blind
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop goes the nine
Yeah. what you're dissin bout, friend?
Sayin I went out, but you ain't never been in
I got are-e-s-p-e-see-t in the industry
That's somethin that you'll never see
[ CHORUS ]
(They can get a smack for that) --> Flavor Flav
(Yeah-yeah)
[ VERSE 3 ]
On and on to the funk track
Back glass shakin like shit, that's where the trunk's at
That's cause my shit's - made for
Niggas that are hardcore
Brothers is quick to hook a left to your right jaw
Girls, come on, girls, come on, girls, come on
Get your clothes off and the fun on
Girls, come on, girls, come on, girls, come on
Get your clothes off and the fun on
It's time to check cash
Jump in my 4, hit the switch and lay the ass
While the Klan try to kill me
But I wrote 'riot' on my muthaf*ckin will, gee
So when I'm gone, it's on
Caps goin off on the streets like popcorn
Talkin bout Simon till the early morn'
Word is bond
But now I just cool
Bumpin my Gang Starr tape by my pool
I ain't new to this
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 4 ]
Check, check, I got problems with the press
Caught the punk in traffic, stabbed the sucker in his neck
(Ugh) Punk reporter tried to diss me
(Ugh) Now the muthaf*cka's history
(Ha) I got to make a break hardcore fat tape
Word, I don't fantasize, I don't exaggerate
Just kick correct with the 1-2 mic check
Still quick to swing, take a sucker to the deck
I'm not the nigga you should step to like a sucker
Walk up talkin shit, you best to be a good ducker
Your posse best to run from my gun
Keep my nine off safety, and E holds the other one
(Yeah, sucker)
[ CHORUS ]
(They can get a smack for that)
And you don't stop
F*ck, f*ck around and get your punk ass dropped
Yeah
Ice-T
'93 for the underground
I ain't new ta this
Come on
[ VERSE 1 ]
Do this, ugh, come on, come on
Time to get wreck and kick the so on and so on
The I-see-e-T
O.G. M.C.
L.A.P.D.
H-a-t-e-
S (Ho!)
Watch the mic blow
I flip scripts, and the Dump drops the Ammo
Time to get wreck with the new style
It's '93 and MC's are gettin buck wild
But I - ain't a - nigga
That's gonna get left with a big zero as a figure
I'm gonna end up with a big sum
Cause if you don't like one jam, I always got another one
Different, specifically I don't copy
Tear up the track if the flow sounds sloppy
I don't play one game
I bust about a dozen cuts on my lp's, none the same
[ CHORUS ]
I ain't new to this
I ain't new to this
Never been
New to this
Nigga
New to this
I ain't new to this
Fool
New to this
F*ck around and catch a left and a right fist
[ VERSE 2 ]
Boom bam, I drop fat slang
When I used to hustle, used to be down with the crack game
When I was young, I used to roll with a street gang
If you want to squabble, muthaf*cka, it ain't no thang
I ain't new to this, I ain't new to this
Blow your dome, I hit quick as a pugilist
Ugh, ah, what's up? Now your eyes swoll'
Thought I went soft, cause my records went gold
(Sucker) Buster, you'se a - muthaf*ckin punk fool
Caught you in your eye while you reached for your tool
Now it's mine, and you're blind
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop goes the nine
Yeah. what you're dissin bout, friend?
Sayin I went out, but you ain't never been in
I got are-e-s-p-e-see-t in the industry
That's somethin that you'll never see
[ CHORUS ]
(They can get a smack for that) --> Flavor Flav
(Yeah-yeah)
[ VERSE 3 ]
On and on to the funk track
Back glass shakin like shit, that's where the trunk's at
That's cause my shit's - made for
Niggas that are hardcore
Brothers is quick to hook a left to your right jaw
Girls, come on, girls, come on, girls, come on
Get your clothes off and the fun on
Girls, come on, girls, come on, girls, come on
Get your clothes off and the fun on
It's time to check cash
Jump in my 4, hit the switch and lay the ass
While the Klan try to kill me
But I wrote 'riot' on my muthaf*ckin will, gee
So when I'm gone, it's on
Caps goin off on the streets like popcorn
Talkin bout Simon till the early morn'
Word is bond
But now I just cool
Bumpin my Gang Starr tape by my pool
I ain't new to this
[ CHORUS ]
[ VERSE 4 ]
Check, check, I got problems with the press
Caught the punk in traffic, stabbed the sucker in his neck
(Ugh) Punk reporter tried to diss me
(Ugh) Now the muthaf*cka's history
(Ha) I got to make a break hardcore fat tape
Word, I don't fantasize, I don't exaggerate
Just kick correct with the 1-2 mic check
Still quick to swing, take a sucker to the deck
I'm not the nigga you should step to like a sucker
Walk up talkin shit, you best to be a good ducker
Your posse best to run from my gun
Keep my nine off safety, and E holds the other one
(Yeah, sucker)
[ CHORUS ]
(They can get a smack for that)
And you don't stop
F*ck, f*ck around and get your punk ass dropped
Yeah
Ice-T
'93 for the underground
I ain't new ta this
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, ALPHONSO HENDERSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Pimp Behind The Wheels
(feat. DJ Evil E The Great)
[Intro: Ice-T Talking]
Yo, shut up this is Ice motherf*ckin' T
and I've been listenin' to a lot of DJ's
get on the Mic and try to get busy you know what I'm sayin'?
But can't no DJ get rap like my motherf*ckin' nigga Evil-E
So right about now I'm give you the motherf*ckin' microphone
I'ma get behind the wheels, and we gonna do this
yo Evil, tell where the f*ck it's comin' from
[Verse 1: Evil-E]
It's comin' from the mouth of the pimp behind the wheels
I make the bitch kneel, Evil E the Great steel
Shows, hoes, junior pimp, sweat out punk
So I can give your bitch, the Evil-E junk
I love your honey if she listen up, listen clear after the show
Yo, hoe hit the wheel "yeah"
backstage, pad lipstick, tattooed on the right tip
My hope to get lit, grap that ass and hit "hit"
hard move and more security would be knockin'
while Evil E's rockin', Charlie Jam is gyratin'
I'm a f*ckin' mack that comes up, by playin' them back
ask my nigga, I be Shawnie, Shawnie, Shawnie mack...
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Ice-T:] yo E, tell them who the f*ck you are
[Evil-E:] yeah nigga I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] Yo, man I don't think they heard you man
I don't think f*ck they heard you man
[Evil-E:] aiy bitch, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] you pimp behind the wheels right, the pimp behind the wheels
[Evil-E:] That's right I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] well jump off
[Evil-E:] yo, check this motherf*ckin' shit out
[Verse 2: Evil-E]
Standin' with no quitter a f*ckin' baby sitter
quick to get with her and have bitches that's bitter "yeah"
I'm all that, f*ck you if you don't think so
Take your mamms, make that bitch my main hoe 'Hah"
Let's go, let's go, let's go, showtime
blow the Syndicate's sock when my nigga kicked the dope "yeah"
rhyme that ass, yep that's what I'm peepin'
Niggaz never sleep on Evil E, I'll deep in
some ass make you fatal, yo that's pimpin'
new city, no tittie, Evil-E be never be slippin' "yeah"
Down with the Syndicate rippin' shit up
back wheel my yellow nigga Ice
And I'm the pimp behind the wheels...
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Ice-T:] yo, jump off E, get busy dude
[Evil-E:] that's right, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] I don't think they hear you nigga, I don't think they hear you
[Evil-E:] yeah nigga, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] motherf*ckin' pimp behind the wheels, yeah
[Evil-E:] that's right, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
yo Ice, break it down like this
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Break: Evil-E Talking]
yeeeeeeeeeeah nigga
Yo P, cut that shit up properly
y'all never seen a MC cut shit up right
a f*ckin' nigga, but check this shit out
[Verse 3: Evil-E]
Evil-E the nigga that always gives a f*ck
about gettin' sucked, clockin' crazy bucks
f*ck your fine hazes, all it takes is a second "second"
Syndicate weapon Evil-E and I'm kickin' in the back
while supplyin' the sounds on stage
Cops enrage that's why we always on the front page
rippin' shit up, me and my yellow nigga
The mic is the gat and the wheels is the trigger
Grap the haze known every city that I rip "rip"
got crazy Dollars cause I always keep a grip "grip"
get down with the Syndicate rippin' shit up
back wheel my yellow nigga Ice "who are you"
And I'm the pimp behind the wheels...
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Ice-T:] niggaz don't know man, niggaz don't know
[Evil-E:] yeah nigga, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] niggaz can't hear you motherf*cker
[Evil-E:] yeah, the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] niggaz don't understand the level of this game baby
[Evil-E:] Ice is down with the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] niggaz, niggaz can't deal with this shit
[Evil-E:] an untouchable with the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] awww yeah
[Evil-E:] LP's with the pimp behind the wheels
Bodycount is with the pimp behind the wheels
The Syndicate is with the pimp behind the wheels
Hen-Gee is the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] pimp behind the wheels, yeah
[Evil-E:] That's right motherf*cker, 1993's style Home Invasion
dedicating this shit to all the DJ's in all the motherf*ckin' world
[Ice-T:] this shit fly E
[Evil-E:] and peace to all MC's in the world
my nigga Ice on the wheels of steel, you know what I'm sayin'
total haze knows I whip nationwide
[Ice-T:] shit makes you wanna hold your nuts
[Evil-E:] you know what I'm sayin, and I'm outta this motherf*cker
[Ice-T:] Shits kinda fly, pimp shit, Evil-E style
All the virgins thanks for nothing, look I got this DJ here E
yeah, that's for all the DJ's out there, y'all can suck my dick too, twice
[Evil-E:] I'mthe pimp behind the wheels
I'm dedicatin' this record to all the DJ's in the entire motherf*ckin' world
that's down with the Evil-E and my yellow nigga
[Ice-T:] that's me hoe
[Evil-E:] Peace to all the MC's in the house
peace to all the haze nose all over the world
let's get the f*ck outta here
[Intro: Ice-T Talking]
Yo, shut up this is Ice motherf*ckin' T
and I've been listenin' to a lot of DJ's
get on the Mic and try to get busy you know what I'm sayin'?
But can't no DJ get rap like my motherf*ckin' nigga Evil-E
So right about now I'm give you the motherf*ckin' microphone
I'ma get behind the wheels, and we gonna do this
yo Evil, tell where the f*ck it's comin' from
[Verse 1: Evil-E]
It's comin' from the mouth of the pimp behind the wheels
I make the bitch kneel, Evil E the Great steel
Shows, hoes, junior pimp, sweat out punk
So I can give your bitch, the Evil-E junk
I love your honey if she listen up, listen clear after the show
Yo, hoe hit the wheel "yeah"
backstage, pad lipstick, tattooed on the right tip
My hope to get lit, grap that ass and hit "hit"
hard move and more security would be knockin'
while Evil E's rockin', Charlie Jam is gyratin'
I'm a f*ckin' mack that comes up, by playin' them back
ask my nigga, I be Shawnie, Shawnie, Shawnie mack...
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Ice-T:] yo E, tell them who the f*ck you are
[Evil-E:] yeah nigga I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] Yo, man I don't think they heard you man
I don't think f*ck they heard you man
[Evil-E:] aiy bitch, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] you pimp behind the wheels right, the pimp behind the wheels
[Evil-E:] That's right I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] well jump off
[Evil-E:] yo, check this motherf*ckin' shit out
[Verse 2: Evil-E]
Standin' with no quitter a f*ckin' baby sitter
quick to get with her and have bitches that's bitter "yeah"
I'm all that, f*ck you if you don't think so
Take your mamms, make that bitch my main hoe 'Hah"
Let's go, let's go, let's go, showtime
blow the Syndicate's sock when my nigga kicked the dope "yeah"
rhyme that ass, yep that's what I'm peepin'
Niggaz never sleep on Evil E, I'll deep in
some ass make you fatal, yo that's pimpin'
new city, no tittie, Evil-E be never be slippin' "yeah"
Down with the Syndicate rippin' shit up
back wheel my yellow nigga Ice
And I'm the pimp behind the wheels...
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Ice-T:] yo, jump off E, get busy dude
[Evil-E:] that's right, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] I don't think they hear you nigga, I don't think they hear you
[Evil-E:] yeah nigga, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] motherf*ckin' pimp behind the wheels, yeah
[Evil-E:] that's right, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
yo Ice, break it down like this
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Break: Evil-E Talking]
yeeeeeeeeeeah nigga
Yo P, cut that shit up properly
y'all never seen a MC cut shit up right
a f*ckin' nigga, but check this shit out
[Verse 3: Evil-E]
Evil-E the nigga that always gives a f*ck
about gettin' sucked, clockin' crazy bucks
f*ck your fine hazes, all it takes is a second "second"
Syndicate weapon Evil-E and I'm kickin' in the back
while supplyin' the sounds on stage
Cops enrage that's why we always on the front page
rippin' shit up, me and my yellow nigga
The mic is the gat and the wheels is the trigger
Grap the haze known every city that I rip "rip"
got crazy Dollars cause I always keep a grip "grip"
get down with the Syndicate rippin' shit up
back wheel my yellow nigga Ice "who are you"
And I'm the pimp behind the wheels...
[Chorus:]
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
E cuts the records and the yellow nigga gets loose
[Ice-T:] niggaz don't know man, niggaz don't know
[Evil-E:] yeah nigga, I'm the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] niggaz can't hear you motherf*cker
[Evil-E:] yeah, the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] niggaz don't understand the level of this game baby
[Evil-E:] Ice is down with the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] niggaz, niggaz can't deal with this shit
[Evil-E:] an untouchable with the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] awww yeah
[Evil-E:] LP's with the pimp behind the wheels
Bodycount is with the pimp behind the wheels
The Syndicate is with the pimp behind the wheels
Hen-Gee is the pimp behind the wheels
[Ice-T:] pimp behind the wheels, yeah
[Evil-E:] That's right motherf*cker, 1993's style Home Invasion
dedicating this shit to all the DJ's in all the motherf*ckin' world
[Ice-T:] this shit fly E
[Evil-E:] and peace to all MC's in the world
my nigga Ice on the wheels of steel, you know what I'm sayin'
total haze knows I whip nationwide
[Ice-T:] shit makes you wanna hold your nuts
[Evil-E:] you know what I'm sayin, and I'm outta this motherf*cker
[Ice-T:] Shits kinda fly, pimp shit, Evil-E style
All the virgins thanks for nothing, look I got this DJ here E
yeah, that's for all the DJ's out there, y'all can suck my dick too, twice
[Evil-E:] I'mthe pimp behind the wheels
I'm dedicatin' this record to all the DJ's in the entire motherf*ckin' world
that's down with the Evil-E and my yellow nigga
[Ice-T:] that's me hoe
[Evil-E:] Peace to all the MC's in the house
peace to all the haze nose all over the world
let's get the f*ck outta here
Writer: HENRY GARCIA, WENDELL WINSTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Gotta Lotta Love
[ VERSE 1 ]
Woke up the other mornin, I heard a rumor
They said the gang wars was over
I told em they was bullshittin, they said it's real as hell
Can't explain the way I felt
Too many years I seen my brothers die
And I can't say that shit was really that fly
But I used to gangbang when I was younger
So it's really hard to tell a kid that he's goin under
I never thought I lived to see us chill
Crips and Bloods holdin hands, the shit is ill
But I love it, I can't help it
Too much death on the streets, and we dealt it
Van Ness Boys, The Hoovers, The 60s
Bounty Hunters, 8-Treys, all coolin out, gee
I pray the shit'll never stop
You used to see the wrong colors, and the gats went pop-pop
But now the kids got a chance to live
And the O.G.'s got something to give
That's love, black on black, that's how they made it
And if any busters flip, they get faded
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love
[ VERSE 2 ]
I got a lotta love, cause you're all my brothers
Red or blue, black's the color
We got a chance, so we can really sweat the real fools
Show those muthaf*ckas the real tools
Check the enemy, it ain't the family
Not 1-11, try L.A.P.D.
They gotta understand, they beat on a blackman
There's gonna be drama, know what I'm sayin?
And if we flip, let's all flip together
Cause I'm prepared, kid, for rough weather
And we gotta realize, the boys on the east side
You call em S-A's, I call em allies
Because the day that we all unite
Watch the pigs get real polite
Punk muthaf*ckas gotta learn quick
That we ain't takin no more shit
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love
[ VERSE 3 ]
Crenshaw Boulevard, Sunday afternoon
Folks sittin on things, mad systems boom
The girls are lookin better
The gang truce is on, so you wear whatever
At Venice by the ocean
Rag-top Trey hits the three-wheel motion
There's gangsters all around
Still crazy sets, but you just don't clown
I pray L.A. can stay this way
It's the first summer I can really say
I felt cool, we all chilled
Went to the park, and nobody got killed
Now if you got a problem, it's man on man
You don't need a gang to solve em
I seen the greatest thing I seen in my life
Two brothers in a straight up fist fight
Nobody pulled a gat, nobody jumped in
Nobody pulled a knife, nobody got done in
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to my city, cause I got a lotta love
[ VERSE 4 ]
G-a-t-e-s, I hope you wear a vest
Even after you're out the f*ckin office
Cause we're on a totally different tip
F*ck that pig brutality shit
This unity is gettin to me
Every brother on the street is my homie
I'm rollin through a hood that I never been
And every brother steps to me as a friend
I love it, I love it
And nothin in my life will ever be above it
We wanna see our kids all grown up
We're tired of seein our hoods get blown up
L.A. is a great place
Fly girls, dope cars, life at a fast pace
But gangbanging was killin it quick
Another child got hit - bullshit
Pop-pop-pop, 10 on a weekend
We was goin off to deep end
But now we got a chance, my friend
To mend, and make the colors blend
Let's all go out on a picnic, kick shit
And squash all the static
Last year I lost about five homies
This shit is real to me
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love
Yo
This is goin out to all the gangbangers
All over South Central
Watts
Inglewood
All over L.A., basically
East L.A.
Youknowmsayin?
It's basically goin down
Peace to all the Crips and the Bloods
Van Ness Boys
Hoovers
Rollin 60s
83's
Bounty Hunters
Yeah
And the Jungle
This is goin out to all the brothers over there in Watts
You know what I'm sayin?
Throwin it up
Grape Street
Nutty Blocc
Front Hood
And all them niggas out there in Compton
Rollin 30s
Harlem
Ah yeah
Pueblos
Nickerson G's
Peace
Inglewood Family
18th Street
South Loc
And all the S-A homeboys
All the different sets
Every set, Crip, Blood
What doesn't matter to me
Cause I gotta love
You know what I'm sayin?
Hope the truce never ends
Youknowsayin?
We can do this
Woke up the other mornin, I heard a rumor
They said the gang wars was over
I told em they was bullshittin, they said it's real as hell
Can't explain the way I felt
Too many years I seen my brothers die
And I can't say that shit was really that fly
But I used to gangbang when I was younger
So it's really hard to tell a kid that he's goin under
I never thought I lived to see us chill
Crips and Bloods holdin hands, the shit is ill
But I love it, I can't help it
Too much death on the streets, and we dealt it
Van Ness Boys, The Hoovers, The 60s
Bounty Hunters, 8-Treys, all coolin out, gee
I pray the shit'll never stop
You used to see the wrong colors, and the gats went pop-pop
But now the kids got a chance to live
And the O.G.'s got something to give
That's love, black on black, that's how they made it
And if any busters flip, they get faded
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love
[ VERSE 2 ]
I got a lotta love, cause you're all my brothers
Red or blue, black's the color
We got a chance, so we can really sweat the real fools
Show those muthaf*ckas the real tools
Check the enemy, it ain't the family
Not 1-11, try L.A.P.D.
They gotta understand, they beat on a blackman
There's gonna be drama, know what I'm sayin?
And if we flip, let's all flip together
Cause I'm prepared, kid, for rough weather
And we gotta realize, the boys on the east side
You call em S-A's, I call em allies
Because the day that we all unite
Watch the pigs get real polite
Punk muthaf*ckas gotta learn quick
That we ain't takin no more shit
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love
[ VERSE 3 ]
Crenshaw Boulevard, Sunday afternoon
Folks sittin on things, mad systems boom
The girls are lookin better
The gang truce is on, so you wear whatever
At Venice by the ocean
Rag-top Trey hits the three-wheel motion
There's gangsters all around
Still crazy sets, but you just don't clown
I pray L.A. can stay this way
It's the first summer I can really say
I felt cool, we all chilled
Went to the park, and nobody got killed
Now if you got a problem, it's man on man
You don't need a gang to solve em
I seen the greatest thing I seen in my life
Two brothers in a straight up fist fight
Nobody pulled a gat, nobody jumped in
Nobody pulled a knife, nobody got done in
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to my city, cause I got a lotta love
[ VERSE 4 ]
G-a-t-e-s, I hope you wear a vest
Even after you're out the f*ckin office
Cause we're on a totally different tip
F*ck that pig brutality shit
This unity is gettin to me
Every brother on the street is my homie
I'm rollin through a hood that I never been
And every brother steps to me as a friend
I love it, I love it
And nothin in my life will ever be above it
We wanna see our kids all grown up
We're tired of seein our hoods get blown up
L.A. is a great place
Fly girls, dope cars, life at a fast pace
But gangbanging was killin it quick
Another child got hit - bullshit
Pop-pop-pop, 10 on a weekend
We was goin off to deep end
But now we got a chance, my friend
To mend, and make the colors blend
Let's all go out on a picnic, kick shit
And squash all the static
Last year I lost about five homies
This shit is real to me
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love
Yo
This is goin out to all the gangbangers
All over South Central
Watts
Inglewood
All over L.A., basically
East L.A.
Youknowmsayin?
It's basically goin down
Peace to all the Crips and the Bloods
Van Ness Boys
Hoovers
Rollin 60s
83's
Bounty Hunters
Yeah
And the Jungle
This is goin out to all the brothers over there in Watts
You know what I'm sayin?
Throwin it up
Grape Street
Nutty Blocc
Front Hood
And all them niggas out there in Compton
Rollin 30s
Harlem
Ah yeah
Pueblos
Nickerson G's
Peace
Inglewood Family
18th Street
South Loc
And all the S-A homeboys
All the different sets
Every set, Crip, Blood
What doesn't matter to me
Cause I gotta love
You know what I'm sayin?
Hope the truce never ends
Youknowsayin?
We can do this
Writer: N LAMONT DONALD, TRACY LAUREN MARROW
Copyright: Lyrics © REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, BMG Rights Management
Hit The Fan
Shawnie Shawn ]
Yo, what's goin on Ice?
[ Ice-T ]
Yo what's up Shawnie Shawn?
Man, just trippin off this girl, man
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Girls?
You?
The Iceberg?
Aw man, come on, spill it, man
She was a swinger
Talkin 'bout high post
She was the most
Knew she was fine, dope, fly
She didn't have to try
She brought a eye on my eye in a crowded club
I tried to stare the girl down, but she didn't budge
She moved through the crowd in a straight line
The closer she got, mad thoughts ran through my mind
Yo, what would I say, yo, how would I chill?
My mind drew a blank, the whole scene was ill
She stepped in the light, she was dynamite
Her eyes said, "I wanna be with you all night
I wanna rub you down, I wanna kiss, caress your soul
Make your body warm and cold
Do everything sexually you ever heard"
And she hadn't said a single word..
I said, "Damn, what the hell am I gonna do?"
But my eyes said the same things too
I tried to speak, she put a finger across my lips
Followed it with a kiss
She said, "I want you bad," and she moved in next to me
This woman spelled out ecstacy
Said, "I've seen on the movies and TV
I love your records, but I ain't no groupie
Just wanna love ya, cause you're a real man
And you deserve this lovin like only I can"
I wanted her bad, and I am a man
That night the shit hit the fan
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Damn, man
Keep on with it, man
Come on now kick it, man
You gotta kick it right, though
Let me know what's up
She had a 500 S-E-L airtight
Cellular phone, brand-new, it was white on white
As we walked to the car, I couldn't help but recognize
Her small waist and sexy thighs
She had a beach house she owned and a restaurant
Took me in her crib and put Sade on
As the waves hit the rocks in the moonlight
She came up behind me and squeezed me real tight
My mind started to trip, flip, roll, and roam
What about my girl who's at sleep at home?
But before I could lock in on that thought
She broke out with a new men's watch that she had bought
She put it round my wrist, it was a perfect fit
And said in my ear, "Want you to have it"
Then she unzipped her dress, dropped it to the ground
My mind was totally blown by now
She gazed at me nude in the moonlight
Pumps still on, her body was firm and tight
I looked at her breasts as they glistened and rised
Right before my eyes
And all I could say to myself was, "Damn.."
The night the shit hit the fan
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Man, man, man
I understand...
(The night the shit hit the fan)
Come on now
I feel it
Come on
(The night the shit hit the fan)
Damn, man
It's all that
Shit
Come on, Ice
Kick that shit
Now I'm a player, I been all around the world
Made love to many girls
But tonight this was the big league
And I was worryin about fatigue
I wanna do this girl, so she won't forget me
And I knew that she'd let me
She moved close and took my shirt off
She said my skin was soft
Then slipped her hand
Between my stomach and my waist band
Man, I couldn't take it no more
F*ck the bedroom, we use the kitchen floor
We hit skins all weekend
We didn't even eat, we just hit em again
I love to think about how it went down
But she's no longer around
Left town with some fly guy
She's on some island drinkin D'Acqueray's and Mai Thai's
But she gave me the keys to the beach house
She knows what I'm about, at least now she figured out
I ain't nothin but a straight up man
And I might need those keys the next time the shit hits the fan
Yeah
Uh!
Yeah
Uh..
Yeah
Uh
I want her
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Damn
All that, all that
And after all that
You know?
You always know, man
In the long run
You meet another one like the other one
Yo, what's goin on Ice?
[ Ice-T ]
Yo what's up Shawnie Shawn?
Man, just trippin off this girl, man
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Girls?
You?
The Iceberg?
Aw man, come on, spill it, man
She was a swinger
Talkin 'bout high post
She was the most
Knew she was fine, dope, fly
She didn't have to try
She brought a eye on my eye in a crowded club
I tried to stare the girl down, but she didn't budge
She moved through the crowd in a straight line
The closer she got, mad thoughts ran through my mind
Yo, what would I say, yo, how would I chill?
My mind drew a blank, the whole scene was ill
She stepped in the light, she was dynamite
Her eyes said, "I wanna be with you all night
I wanna rub you down, I wanna kiss, caress your soul
Make your body warm and cold
Do everything sexually you ever heard"
And she hadn't said a single word..
I said, "Damn, what the hell am I gonna do?"
But my eyes said the same things too
I tried to speak, she put a finger across my lips
Followed it with a kiss
She said, "I want you bad," and she moved in next to me
This woman spelled out ecstacy
Said, "I've seen on the movies and TV
I love your records, but I ain't no groupie
Just wanna love ya, cause you're a real man
And you deserve this lovin like only I can"
I wanted her bad, and I am a man
That night the shit hit the fan
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Damn, man
Keep on with it, man
Come on now kick it, man
You gotta kick it right, though
Let me know what's up
She had a 500 S-E-L airtight
Cellular phone, brand-new, it was white on white
As we walked to the car, I couldn't help but recognize
Her small waist and sexy thighs
She had a beach house she owned and a restaurant
Took me in her crib and put Sade on
As the waves hit the rocks in the moonlight
She came up behind me and squeezed me real tight
My mind started to trip, flip, roll, and roam
What about my girl who's at sleep at home?
But before I could lock in on that thought
She broke out with a new men's watch that she had bought
She put it round my wrist, it was a perfect fit
And said in my ear, "Want you to have it"
Then she unzipped her dress, dropped it to the ground
My mind was totally blown by now
She gazed at me nude in the moonlight
Pumps still on, her body was firm and tight
I looked at her breasts as they glistened and rised
Right before my eyes
And all I could say to myself was, "Damn.."
The night the shit hit the fan
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Man, man, man
I understand...
(The night the shit hit the fan)
Come on now
I feel it
Come on
(The night the shit hit the fan)
Damn, man
It's all that
Shit
Come on, Ice
Kick that shit
Now I'm a player, I been all around the world
Made love to many girls
But tonight this was the big league
And I was worryin about fatigue
I wanna do this girl, so she won't forget me
And I knew that she'd let me
She moved close and took my shirt off
She said my skin was soft
Then slipped her hand
Between my stomach and my waist band
Man, I couldn't take it no more
F*ck the bedroom, we use the kitchen floor
We hit skins all weekend
We didn't even eat, we just hit em again
I love to think about how it went down
But she's no longer around
Left town with some fly guy
She's on some island drinkin D'Acqueray's and Mai Thai's
But she gave me the keys to the beach house
She knows what I'm about, at least now she figured out
I ain't nothin but a straight up man
And I might need those keys the next time the shit hits the fan
Yeah
Uh!
Yeah
Uh..
Yeah
Uh
I want her
[ Shawnie Shawn ]
Damn
All that, all that
And after all that
You know?
You always know, man
In the long run
You meet another one like the other one
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Depths of Hell
"Depths of Hell"
(feat. Daddy Nitro)
[Daddy Nitro]
Now hear dis!
All bad man what dey a know
The original bad man dey a know, seen?
Daddy Nitro, an' Ice-T dey 'pon ? man
Come talk wit reality
An' any guy who nah like dey got shot in ? face
No Ice-T, come talk wit reality star
Tell dem bout da endin of da world today.. COME!
[Ice-T]
I got a attitude as thick as a convict's
Bomb ticks, my heart beats as I rhyme over hard s***
Watch this, the n**** that you didn't think could do
Break through with the rhythm that'll rock your whole crew
Thought you knew; I ain't no punk or no pooh-butt
Step to me, the cops are still diggin n****z up
What's up? What's up? What's up? You want to try your luck
You move you weave you bob you got stuck
And now you're trippin with your f***in brain
You never seen so much blood pour through one vein
You try to scream, you choke
You try to run, your legs are broke
You're bulletproof I hope..
Yo, I ain't no n**** to flex, but I will flip
F*** up a n**** and dropkick his f***in b****
I love to squabble and I'm good widdit
So if you want some n**** come get it
I ain't trippin n**** trippin at all
Yo, I'm f***in walkin over weak rapper's downfalls
It ain't my fault they fell, it ain't my fault I sell
I pull my a** up from the depths of hell
[Daddy Nitro]
Lawd! Jib-bibbidy-bong, jib-bibbidy-be-bong-ska-dang
Daddy Nitro an' Ice-T come wid a different some-thang
Comin out de ghetto tings are wild like pure 'ell
Nuff man get ? in my firebomb sale
Some a sell coke but the music we a sell
We no inna doubt, we don't want no ambulance bell
While other lyrics are full of our style we fill up our clientele
Ice-T an' Nitro from the, depths of 'ell, COME!
[Ice-T]
You punks are jealous cause I'm rollin in fly s***
My s***, all paid for and I don't owe no guy s***
F*** you, it ain't my fault your a** is on empty
Thought you was it, but you're smooth gettin pimped G..
.. I ain't no hoe fool
Got much respect for the new and the old school
But many rappers can rip mics but can't count..
.. zero bank amounts
Word and many critics are hot cause hard rap hits
They like to make it all soft that we pop s***
F*** that, I'll die before I let the hardcore go
Cause I'm a n**** from the G-H-E-T-T-O
I got a posse who's airtight, quick to fight
And got the power to continue or end the night
And if you stepped on wrong, then you're a done kid
The yellow tape's in the club because one did
I got no pity so don't ask me for f***in any
I'll break a bum off but you n****z can't get a penny
When I was broke, I stole my gold, I pawned
I lived the life of a hustler off and on
I'm just a brother that lived to tell
I brought my a** up from the depths of hell
[Daddy Nitro]
Come! In a de ghetto tings are wild round de clock
Some man a smoke crack and some man a fire shot
Me tell de people dem laws, that we no inna dat
If a guy try dat thing we get them sixteen shotta
It's a lovely night ?? ?? off de chatta
Easy Ice-T make them no say you a mark-a
Anyway we go on I bet a no say we stop
Wit lyrics and de music and right on de ?
EASE UP and come again my selector
All over de world is only for pain an' sufferin
That's why Ice-T and Daddy Nitro come wit the reality thing
Nice this everytime star
Man like Ice-T 'pon the ?? man
Come in star, one last time and teach dem bout reality
Now watch dis, COME!
[Ice-T]
I met this girl who act like I owed her somethin
Nothin, all I owed her was some good steady f***in
F*** that, not the one that's gonna fall on no hoe trap
Ease back b****, before you need all your teeth back..
.. I ain't no f***in mark
Made all my money workin bowcutters in the dark
Snatch bars and cars and vice grips
Long handled sledgehammers, saws and wire snips
I got an ill side that drips from my brain at times
It still thinks of the psycho and brutal crimes
I still remember when I had a low cash flow
No hoes, no cars, no gear no dough
And times got wicked..
.. I even remember havin to sell all my pawn tickets
But suckers spread out and they left me with few friends
But that's who wit me as we f*** up the true ends
So don't be trippin if your luck's gone bad, be glad
It'll empty out the fake f***in friends you had
Then get yourself together, n**** aim straight
Shoot point blank at your goals, work hard and wait
You can do it even if you fell
I brought my a** back from the depths of hell
[Daddy Nitro]
Cause we are serious, en-ter-tain-ers
Talk about de Ice-T, he no joker
Cause we are serious, en-ter-tain-ers
Talk about de Daddy Nitro me no joker
Me come and pull up my lyrics and full up my style
And full up our lingual
As me sit upon de riddim I'ma sit on proper
As me flow upon de riddim like a rockin of de gong
Me sit upon de riddim like a true ??
Man no listen Daddy Nitro like a fierce ??
Me flow upon de mic from a ?? area
Pam pamma, original chat masta
Me pam pamma, original chat masta
Me pam pamma, me come fi set fi dance pon fiyah
An' if it's on, well you must fi chant up hiyah
Me say dis a Daddy Nitro steppin ?? ??
Come down, no try to diss and no dismiss de kid
As me sit upon de riddim wit de man Ice-T
All of de ma**ive up here listen to me
Respect me come from inner New York Ci-ty
Die gon test me, man go dead and buried, COME!
Ease up man, FIYAH
Wicked every time.. woy! Woy! Woy! Woy!
(feat. Daddy Nitro)
[Daddy Nitro]
Now hear dis!
All bad man what dey a know
The original bad man dey a know, seen?
Daddy Nitro, an' Ice-T dey 'pon ? man
Come talk wit reality
An' any guy who nah like dey got shot in ? face
No Ice-T, come talk wit reality star
Tell dem bout da endin of da world today.. COME!
[Ice-T]
I got a attitude as thick as a convict's
Bomb ticks, my heart beats as I rhyme over hard s***
Watch this, the n**** that you didn't think could do
Break through with the rhythm that'll rock your whole crew
Thought you knew; I ain't no punk or no pooh-butt
Step to me, the cops are still diggin n****z up
What's up? What's up? What's up? You want to try your luck
You move you weave you bob you got stuck
And now you're trippin with your f***in brain
You never seen so much blood pour through one vein
You try to scream, you choke
You try to run, your legs are broke
You're bulletproof I hope..
Yo, I ain't no n**** to flex, but I will flip
F*** up a n**** and dropkick his f***in b****
I love to squabble and I'm good widdit
So if you want some n**** come get it
I ain't trippin n**** trippin at all
Yo, I'm f***in walkin over weak rapper's downfalls
It ain't my fault they fell, it ain't my fault I sell
I pull my a** up from the depths of hell
[Daddy Nitro]
Lawd! Jib-bibbidy-bong, jib-bibbidy-be-bong-ska-dang
Daddy Nitro an' Ice-T come wid a different some-thang
Comin out de ghetto tings are wild like pure 'ell
Nuff man get ? in my firebomb sale
Some a sell coke but the music we a sell
We no inna doubt, we don't want no ambulance bell
While other lyrics are full of our style we fill up our clientele
Ice-T an' Nitro from the, depths of 'ell, COME!
[Ice-T]
You punks are jealous cause I'm rollin in fly s***
My s***, all paid for and I don't owe no guy s***
F*** you, it ain't my fault your a** is on empty
Thought you was it, but you're smooth gettin pimped G..
.. I ain't no hoe fool
Got much respect for the new and the old school
But many rappers can rip mics but can't count..
.. zero bank amounts
Word and many critics are hot cause hard rap hits
They like to make it all soft that we pop s***
F*** that, I'll die before I let the hardcore go
Cause I'm a n**** from the G-H-E-T-T-O
I got a posse who's airtight, quick to fight
And got the power to continue or end the night
And if you stepped on wrong, then you're a done kid
The yellow tape's in the club because one did
I got no pity so don't ask me for f***in any
I'll break a bum off but you n****z can't get a penny
When I was broke, I stole my gold, I pawned
I lived the life of a hustler off and on
I'm just a brother that lived to tell
I brought my a** up from the depths of hell
[Daddy Nitro]
Come! In a de ghetto tings are wild round de clock
Some man a smoke crack and some man a fire shot
Me tell de people dem laws, that we no inna dat
If a guy try dat thing we get them sixteen shotta
It's a lovely night ?? ?? off de chatta
Easy Ice-T make them no say you a mark-a
Anyway we go on I bet a no say we stop
Wit lyrics and de music and right on de ?
EASE UP and come again my selector
All over de world is only for pain an' sufferin
That's why Ice-T and Daddy Nitro come wit the reality thing
Nice this everytime star
Man like Ice-T 'pon the ?? man
Come in star, one last time and teach dem bout reality
Now watch dis, COME!
[Ice-T]
I met this girl who act like I owed her somethin
Nothin, all I owed her was some good steady f***in
F*** that, not the one that's gonna fall on no hoe trap
Ease back b****, before you need all your teeth back..
.. I ain't no f***in mark
Made all my money workin bowcutters in the dark
Snatch bars and cars and vice grips
Long handled sledgehammers, saws and wire snips
I got an ill side that drips from my brain at times
It still thinks of the psycho and brutal crimes
I still remember when I had a low cash flow
No hoes, no cars, no gear no dough
And times got wicked..
.. I even remember havin to sell all my pawn tickets
But suckers spread out and they left me with few friends
But that's who wit me as we f*** up the true ends
So don't be trippin if your luck's gone bad, be glad
It'll empty out the fake f***in friends you had
Then get yourself together, n**** aim straight
Shoot point blank at your goals, work hard and wait
You can do it even if you fell
I brought my a** back from the depths of hell
[Daddy Nitro]
Cause we are serious, en-ter-tain-ers
Talk about de Ice-T, he no joker
Cause we are serious, en-ter-tain-ers
Talk about de Daddy Nitro me no joker
Me come and pull up my lyrics and full up my style
And full up our lingual
As me sit upon de riddim I'ma sit on proper
As me flow upon de riddim like a rockin of de gong
Me sit upon de riddim like a true ??
Man no listen Daddy Nitro like a fierce ??
Me flow upon de mic from a ?? area
Pam pamma, original chat masta
Me pam pamma, original chat masta
Me pam pamma, me come fi set fi dance pon fiyah
An' if it's on, well you must fi chant up hiyah
Me say dis a Daddy Nitro steppin ?? ??
Come down, no try to diss and no dismiss de kid
As me sit upon de riddim wit de man Ice-T
All of de ma**ive up here listen to me
Respect me come from inner New York Ci-ty
Die gon test me, man go dead and buried, COME!
Ease up man, FIYAH
Wicked every time.. woy! Woy! Woy! Woy!
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, ALPHONSO HENDERSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
99 Problems
(feat. Brother Marquis)
[Ice-T]
Yeah, last year a lot of motherf*ckers asked me
why I didn't do no old sex nasty shit
But this year I went down to Miami and got my nigga from 2 Live
Brother Marquis in the house! (Yeah I'm the motherf*ckin nigga)
Yeah, we gonna answer the question about girl problems
All these niggaz is havin girl problem, Marq
(Huh, tell them man, tell them how it is)
Lemme tell you what time is it...
I got a ho from the East, got a ho from the West
Got a ho that likes to jack it off and rub it in her chest
I got a ho from the North, a ho from the South
A ho that likes to suck it long and hold it in her mouth
I got a bitch with hair, a bitch with none
A bitch with a knife, a bitch with a gun
A bitch with a ass big as a TV set
And there's a bitch over there; hey, the one I'm gonna get
But yo but maybe not, she might not like me though
No sweat to a vet; I'll slam a sista though, word
Ice in the whole damn herd
I f*ck 'em all and leave 'em on the curve
I got a bitch with a mink, who rocks a fat gold link
who likes to f*ck me with her ass up on the kitchen sink
Got a bitch with tits, a bitch with ass
A bitch with none, but hey I give her a pass
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit it...
Nah a bitch ain't one
[Ice-T]
I got a bitch that's old, a bitch that's new
A bitch who love velvet in the colors blue
I got a bitch who's fat, a bitch who's built
A bitch who all her titties give out powdered milk
I got a bitch who's funny, a bitch who ain't
A bitch who can sing, a bitch who cain't
A bitch who loves f*ckin on a airplane..
I even got a bitch off +Soul Train+
I got a bitch who rolls a rag-top Benz..
Long ends
I got a bitch who's broke as a bum..
But she's the most fun
I got a bitch who play piano, a bitch who don't
A bitch who dances naked, a bitch who won't
A bitch who's short, a bitch who's tall
A bitch who burns my pager with priority calls
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit me
Yo Marquis - you from Miami man why don't you show
these motherf*ckers all the over the world; the 2 Live style
of how the bitches treat a motherf*ckin fly nigga like you
[Brother Marquis]
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one of them
I don't trip on hos, cause I don't need none of them
Pussy's the temptation, dick's the persuasion
All hos suck cock nigga how you play 'em?
That's why I don't sleep on 'em, I just freak on 'em
Stick dick in they mouth; take it out and I skeet on 'em
The nigga the one-nighter, the bitch exciter
I only love my hos when I'm goin up inside her
Problem number one is gettin money
I'd rather taste the green than sip the honey
So don't expect nuttin cause I ain't offerin
I go hard on my bitches, cause I'm never never softenin
Puttin the demand on 'em, f*ck 'em and scram on 'em
The "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" game is ran on 'em
So f*ck how you feel, you f*ckin cheap thrill
I hope you took the pill cause I won't pay the bill
Gettin pussy's just another expense
If pussy pays the bills then dick pays the rent
I only need a ho for one thing and that's to cum
I've got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one!
[Ice-T]
Ha! Yo Marquis my motherf*cker you got problems man?
(A bitch ain't one) Aww shit!
Now let me tell you how to do this shit
[M] I got a bitch that loves to G
[I] She'll f*ck you right after she f*cks me
[M] I got a bitch who loves both
[I] I got a bitch who loves handcuffs and ropes
[I] I got a bitch that's fast, a bitch that's slow
[M] A bitch that's a virgin and a bitch that's a ho
[I] A bitch that lies
[M] A bitch that's true
[I] A bitch who's a man BECAUSE THEY'RE "Bitches 2"
[I] I got a bitch that's cool
[M] A bitch that's hot
[I] A bitch who loves rap, a bitch who loves rock
[I] A bitch who's lost and one who knows where it's at
[I] She gets up under me and purrs like a cat
[M] I got a bitch that runs, I got a bitch that walks
[M] I got a bitch that yells, I got a bitch who talks
[I] I got a bitch that's dirty, got a bitch that's neat
[I] I got a super fine bitch that I knocked in the swap meet
[Ice-T]
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit me...
No a bitch ain't one..
(Huh, you know a bitch ain't one!)
[Ice-T]
Youknahmsayin? I got problems with my motherf*ckin rent Marquis
But a bitch ain't one
[Brother Marquis]
Man you got yourself nothin man
F*ck them raggedy stank-ass hos nigga
[Ice-T]
A bitch ain't one
I got a problems stayin out here on these streets
with the police trying to take a nigga out, y'know?
But a bitch ain't one
Got problems with motherf*ckers.. buyin my records
But a bitch ain't one
[Brother Marquis]
F*ck 'em all, nigga f*ck them motherf*ckers
[Ice-T]
Youknahmsayin? A bitch ain't one
Got problems man
[Brother Marquis]
All them motherf*ckers can kiss my motherf*ckin ass.. f'real
[Ice-T]
Really, niggaz worryin about bitches
They better, they better find somethin else to worry about
[fades out]
[Ice-T]
Yeah, last year a lot of motherf*ckers asked me
why I didn't do no old sex nasty shit
But this year I went down to Miami and got my nigga from 2 Live
Brother Marquis in the house! (Yeah I'm the motherf*ckin nigga)
Yeah, we gonna answer the question about girl problems
All these niggaz is havin girl problem, Marq
(Huh, tell them man, tell them how it is)
Lemme tell you what time is it...
I got a ho from the East, got a ho from the West
Got a ho that likes to jack it off and rub it in her chest
I got a ho from the North, a ho from the South
A ho that likes to suck it long and hold it in her mouth
I got a bitch with hair, a bitch with none
A bitch with a knife, a bitch with a gun
A bitch with a ass big as a TV set
And there's a bitch over there; hey, the one I'm gonna get
But yo but maybe not, she might not like me though
No sweat to a vet; I'll slam a sista though, word
Ice in the whole damn herd
I f*ck 'em all and leave 'em on the curve
I got a bitch with a mink, who rocks a fat gold link
who likes to f*ck me with her ass up on the kitchen sink
Got a bitch with tits, a bitch with ass
A bitch with none, but hey I give her a pass
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit it...
Nah a bitch ain't one
[Ice-T]
I got a bitch that's old, a bitch that's new
A bitch who love velvet in the colors blue
I got a bitch who's fat, a bitch who's built
A bitch who all her titties give out powdered milk
I got a bitch who's funny, a bitch who ain't
A bitch who can sing, a bitch who cain't
A bitch who loves f*ckin on a airplane..
I even got a bitch off +Soul Train+
I got a bitch who rolls a rag-top Benz..
Long ends
I got a bitch who's broke as a bum..
But she's the most fun
I got a bitch who play piano, a bitch who don't
A bitch who dances naked, a bitch who won't
A bitch who's short, a bitch who's tall
A bitch who burns my pager with priority calls
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit me
Yo Marquis - you from Miami man why don't you show
these motherf*ckers all the over the world; the 2 Live style
of how the bitches treat a motherf*ckin fly nigga like you
[Brother Marquis]
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one of them
I don't trip on hos, cause I don't need none of them
Pussy's the temptation, dick's the persuasion
All hos suck cock nigga how you play 'em?
That's why I don't sleep on 'em, I just freak on 'em
Stick dick in they mouth; take it out and I skeet on 'em
The nigga the one-nighter, the bitch exciter
I only love my hos when I'm goin up inside her
Problem number one is gettin money
I'd rather taste the green than sip the honey
So don't expect nuttin cause I ain't offerin
I go hard on my bitches, cause I'm never never softenin
Puttin the demand on 'em, f*ck 'em and scram on 'em
The "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" game is ran on 'em
So f*ck how you feel, you f*ckin cheap thrill
I hope you took the pill cause I won't pay the bill
Gettin pussy's just another expense
If pussy pays the bills then dick pays the rent
I only need a ho for one thing and that's to cum
I've got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one!
[Ice-T]
Ha! Yo Marquis my motherf*cker you got problems man?
(A bitch ain't one) Aww shit!
Now let me tell you how to do this shit
[M] I got a bitch that loves to G
[I] She'll f*ck you right after she f*cks me
[M] I got a bitch who loves both
[I] I got a bitch who loves handcuffs and ropes
[I] I got a bitch that's fast, a bitch that's slow
[M] A bitch that's a virgin and a bitch that's a ho
[I] A bitch that lies
[M] A bitch that's true
[I] A bitch who's a man BECAUSE THEY'RE "Bitches 2"
[I] I got a bitch that's cool
[M] A bitch that's hot
[I] A bitch who loves rap, a bitch who loves rock
[I] A bitch who's lost and one who knows where it's at
[I] She gets up under me and purrs like a cat
[M] I got a bitch that runs, I got a bitch that walks
[M] I got a bitch that yells, I got a bitch who talks
[I] I got a bitch that's dirty, got a bitch that's neat
[I] I got a super fine bitch that I knocked in the swap meet
[Ice-T]
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit me...
No a bitch ain't one..
(Huh, you know a bitch ain't one!)
[Ice-T]
Youknahmsayin? I got problems with my motherf*ckin rent Marquis
But a bitch ain't one
[Brother Marquis]
Man you got yourself nothin man
F*ck them raggedy stank-ass hos nigga
[Ice-T]
A bitch ain't one
I got a problems stayin out here on these streets
with the police trying to take a nigga out, y'know?
But a bitch ain't one
Got problems with motherf*ckers.. buyin my records
But a bitch ain't one
[Brother Marquis]
F*ck 'em all, nigga f*ck them motherf*ckers
[Ice-T]
Youknahmsayin? A bitch ain't one
Got problems man
[Brother Marquis]
All them motherf*ckers can kiss my motherf*ckin ass.. f'real
[Ice-T]
Really, niggaz worryin about bitches
They better, they better find somethin else to worry about
[fades out]
Writer: TRACY LAUREN MARROW, NORMAN LANDSBERG, FELIX PAPPALARDI, RICK RUBIN, LESLIE WEINSTEIN, JOHN VENTURA, SHAWN CARTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING
Funky Gripsta
(Intro: Ice-T)
Yeah, Ice-T nigga, Seventh Deadly Sin
It's all about that hardcore mind
Got my nigga Radzay, my nigga Bazaro, my girl Gripsta in the house
We gonna do it for all the hardcore niggas out there like this...
(Radzay)
A hard hit makes a soft ass, that's what they told me huh!
I'm totally gone, I'm in another zone nigga put me on this
We layin' stick, my lyrics is heat
Havin' visions of ritual mirrors inside my sleep - nigga peep
I remember watchin' the news, dead people in jimmy bag
I got a Nine nigga get me mad
And watch me throw up razorblades and get to trippin'
I'm cats and crippin', lickin' is civil like Jack the Ripper
I'm on a mission drippin'-a-fog
An when it sees a million motherf*ckers deceased
Some of police are brutal hog, I'm actor-baitin'
No hesitation to slice a motherf*cker in thirty places
F*ck a case - ain't leavin' traces here to Redder-Dip
I'm aimin' a - automatic find a bitch I'm hangin' up
Protainin' up, boss strangler, better save my mother
Flat packs will end as brothers - the bloody covers
Bloody gloves like Yo-J, AK's my brainwaves
I'll strung a nigga all day to my dear play you won't be comin' back
I put that on my dear pops when I blast a fierce drop
My bloody mask revealin' Jason it's non-stop
The cemetery is what you facin'
My steel shot is smokin' like chainsaws, brains call
Recommend that you get your homies and watch your motherf*ckin' game fall
(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Radzay, South Central L.A. nigga)
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
(Ice-T)
Prepare for the night that you never wanted
These streets is taunted, blacked out impala with the big rims on it
Hit'cha corner with the lights out, bitch it's on
Duck down wit'cha kids, you know what you did
Motherf*ck what your niggas say, watch for the ricochet
It's gonna be hard to hear much, once my trigger spray
That's neither here nor there, just beware
Cause when I bust off my gat flings like a roll flair
You now listenin' to - the most hated and most loved at the same time 'cause
Ice nigga what the f*ck you want to do about a T
Most'cha bitch niggas can't f*ck with me
Cause your chin-chalked talk I can see through
Like you're rollin' in a phat V-12
Bulllshit - pull quick and have your shit cocked or dropped
Keep a spare clip cause sometimes the shots don't stop
It's motherf*ckin' game to rap about, shits' for real
Double action, ain't gotta cock back no more
Got you bitch-ass niggas sweatin' like Taibo
Rather lookin', in my face, I'm just checkin' my flow
So, I advise you to keep it in the studio
Your attittude, you don't want to meet me dude
My crews' like a f*ckin' wild bunch of escaped beasts
Like scientists, cross cells of apes and G's
All the war - get you battle gear, black fatigues
You talk shit, your crews' catch a casualty, uh!
(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Ice-T nigga, what?)
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
(Bazaro)
Aiyyo my style be official, I bust like a pistol
Criminal - the issue, mad shit the nigga been through
Peep now, system, handcuffs nigga listen
Word up, robbin' white boys to buy blunts
The representative - GorTek Assassin thought to be a stallion
Yo I be splashin' Street Wars
The hardcore Ambassador in a black four door Akaror, I attach yours
The Marquise piece, gold teeth and medallion
Heads I be sappin' like the grams I be baggin'
Fightin' women, cut throat and tree smokin'
Violatin', infiltratin', blunt bakin'
Block regulatin', the cake, bake, a brick flippin'
Green expedition thicker to body stickin'
Bazaro, yo I got the hardcore flow
I drop to put a rock from the Bronx why'all know
(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Bazaro, Boogie down Bronx baby)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Grip)
On the mic, Grip be flexin'
Who's next to wreck when I mic check, mic check
I'm checkin' any verbal an' steppin'
What the f*ck nigga duck you ain't f*ckin' with this
Get touched cause I lust to bust when I clutch
With the quickness, killin' lyricist when I spit this
Who's next on my hitlist when I rip this
Lyrically I'm material, the Rap War General
Droppin' hoes quicker than a syllable, yeah you killable
Your style, unfillable, wishin' my shit was stillable
I eel for the f*ck of it, queen you know I'm lovin' it
Dick, never suckin' it unless I see a buck in it
You need the whip, cluck it kid, I'm furious
Leavin' your crew delirious so you don't take it serious
I'm guessin' you was serious about the West, none test
I got the rep for my niggas on the shaw
Got the ball, f*ck the law and yep I wet 'em out
As I proceed to spread 'em out and dead 'em out
Spray 'em out, lay 'em out
Ain't no surprise, come see me with four eyes
Young Grip I'm a prize, prepare for you demise
Recognize I put a hole in the local aforenor
Nigga this is Coroner
(Ice-T)
Gripsta, Oakland, California
I only like my shit hardcore...
Yeah, Ice-T nigga, Seventh Deadly Sin
It's all about that hardcore mind
Got my nigga Radzay, my nigga Bazaro, my girl Gripsta in the house
We gonna do it for all the hardcore niggas out there like this...
(Radzay)
A hard hit makes a soft ass, that's what they told me huh!
I'm totally gone, I'm in another zone nigga put me on this
We layin' stick, my lyrics is heat
Havin' visions of ritual mirrors inside my sleep - nigga peep
I remember watchin' the news, dead people in jimmy bag
I got a Nine nigga get me mad
And watch me throw up razorblades and get to trippin'
I'm cats and crippin', lickin' is civil like Jack the Ripper
I'm on a mission drippin'-a-fog
An when it sees a million motherf*ckers deceased
Some of police are brutal hog, I'm actor-baitin'
No hesitation to slice a motherf*cker in thirty places
F*ck a case - ain't leavin' traces here to Redder-Dip
I'm aimin' a - automatic find a bitch I'm hangin' up
Protainin' up, boss strangler, better save my mother
Flat packs will end as brothers - the bloody covers
Bloody gloves like Yo-J, AK's my brainwaves
I'll strung a nigga all day to my dear play you won't be comin' back
I put that on my dear pops when I blast a fierce drop
My bloody mask revealin' Jason it's non-stop
The cemetery is what you facin'
My steel shot is smokin' like chainsaws, brains call
Recommend that you get your homies and watch your motherf*ckin' game fall
(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Radzay, South Central L.A. nigga)
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
(Ice-T)
Prepare for the night that you never wanted
These streets is taunted, blacked out impala with the big rims on it
Hit'cha corner with the lights out, bitch it's on
Duck down wit'cha kids, you know what you did
Motherf*ck what your niggas say, watch for the ricochet
It's gonna be hard to hear much, once my trigger spray
That's neither here nor there, just beware
Cause when I bust off my gat flings like a roll flair
You now listenin' to - the most hated and most loved at the same time 'cause
Ice nigga what the f*ck you want to do about a T
Most'cha bitch niggas can't f*ck with me
Cause your chin-chalked talk I can see through
Like you're rollin' in a phat V-12
Bulllshit - pull quick and have your shit cocked or dropped
Keep a spare clip cause sometimes the shots don't stop
It's motherf*ckin' game to rap about, shits' for real
Double action, ain't gotta cock back no more
Got you bitch-ass niggas sweatin' like Taibo
Rather lookin', in my face, I'm just checkin' my flow
So, I advise you to keep it in the studio
Your attittude, you don't want to meet me dude
My crews' like a f*ckin' wild bunch of escaped beasts
Like scientists, cross cells of apes and G's
All the war - get you battle gear, black fatigues
You talk shit, your crews' catch a casualty, uh!
(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Ice-T nigga, what?)
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
(Bazaro)
Aiyyo my style be official, I bust like a pistol
Criminal - the issue, mad shit the nigga been through
Peep now, system, handcuffs nigga listen
Word up, robbin' white boys to buy blunts
The representative - GorTek Assassin thought to be a stallion
Yo I be splashin' Street Wars
The hardcore Ambassador in a black four door Akaror, I attach yours
The Marquise piece, gold teeth and medallion
Heads I be sappin' like the grams I be baggin'
Fightin' women, cut throat and tree smokin'
Violatin', infiltratin', blunt bakin'
Block regulatin', the cake, bake, a brick flippin'
Green expedition thicker to body stickin'
Bazaro, yo I got the hardcore flow
I drop to put a rock from the Bronx why'all know
(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Bazaro, Boogie down Bronx baby)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Grip)
On the mic, Grip be flexin'
Who's next to wreck when I mic check, mic check
I'm checkin' any verbal an' steppin'
What the f*ck nigga duck you ain't f*ckin' with this
Get touched cause I lust to bust when I clutch
With the quickness, killin' lyricist when I spit this
Who's next on my hitlist when I rip this
Lyrically I'm material, the Rap War General
Droppin' hoes quicker than a syllable, yeah you killable
Your style, unfillable, wishin' my shit was stillable
I eel for the f*ck of it, queen you know I'm lovin' it
Dick, never suckin' it unless I see a buck in it
You need the whip, cluck it kid, I'm furious
Leavin' your crew delirious so you don't take it serious
I'm guessin' you was serious about the West, none test
I got the rep for my niggas on the shaw
Got the ball, f*ck the law and yep I wet 'em out
As I proceed to spread 'em out and dead 'em out
Spray 'em out, lay 'em out
Ain't no surprise, come see me with four eyes
Young Grip I'm a prize, prepare for you demise
Recognize I put a hole in the local aforenor
Nigga this is Coroner
(Ice-T)
Gripsta, Oakland, California
I only like my shit hardcore...
Writer: (ALPHONSO HENDERSON) D.J. ALADDIN, BRANDI YOUNGER, TRACY MARROW
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Message To The Soldier
Yo, Ice, you been down with the struggle for a long time, man...
Why don't you drop some knowledge for these brothers who
Want to get involved in this war...
Take notes: real gangstas wear trench coats
Grey suits, black ties and they seek votes
And you're not to be misled
They'll kill you in your f*ckin' bed
They don't sell dope, yo, excuse me, yes they do
But they don't look that much like me or you
But if you pull up the sheets and expose them
They'll crawl up like snakes and show fangs of venom
Now I've been soldier for years
Representin' the tattooed tears
Other brothas locked up with no choice
Left in the bowels of devil with no voice
My phones are tapped, my crib is bugged
My car is tailed from club to club
And this ain't no f*ckin' joke
They want to see a nigga broke
You can't slip, if you slip you're out
You gotta know what you're talkin' about
Drop science every chance you get
Hit direct and indirect, speak in code
Cause you're never alone
That's why I use this low tone
Follow this and you might grow older
This is a message to the soldiers...
Now they killed King and they shot X
Now they want me, you could be next
All you gotta do is speak too loud
All you gotta be is be too proud
Cause once you let'em know
Who you are and where you're at
You better watch your back
Cause you might think you're just dope
While you're livin' in a sniper's scope
I'm not tryin' to scare you
But there's a danger if you get too deep
Some nights I don't sleep
All you want to do is tell the truth
All you want to do is save the youth
Ice Cube knows, Souljah knows, P.E. knows
They throw death blows
And if you got kids or a girl that's true
They'll move on them too
But when I'm gone I need you to carry on
You gotta be strong and fight for our salvation
But there will be retaliation, soldier...
To think that rap could be attacked
Is ignorin' the simple fact
That they never ment us to speak
They had planned to keep the black man weak
But rap hit the streets
Black rage amplified over dope beats
Now they want to shut us down
And they don't f*ck around
Check the history books, son
Black leaders die young
They tell us that your words are scary
They're revolutionary
Because we speak the truth
About crime and drugs
And expose the real thugs
This info is not beneficial
To the groups that go by three initals
So they try to discredit
They'll dog you with an edit
Print the words the way you never said it
But we gotta make'em regret it, soldiers...
Word! I know a lot of brothas out there want to get in this war...
You know what I'm sayin'? a lot of sistas got a lot of knowledge
To drop on our people but right now they're movin' to shut down
All hip-hop! The first amendment had absolutely nothin' to do
With black people at the time constitution was written, we were
Considered nothin' but property...The expectation of havin' black
People speak on records never came to mind, so we gotta move!
But belive me all the black leaders have been silenced and most
Of the time it's been violent so if you choose to get in this war,
Realize what you're in for but we gotta move on...
And we gotta stay strong...
Message to the soldiers, welcome to the struggle...
Message to the soldiers, be careful, soldiers...
Why don't you drop some knowledge for these brothers who
Want to get involved in this war...
Take notes: real gangstas wear trench coats
Grey suits, black ties and they seek votes
And you're not to be misled
They'll kill you in your f*ckin' bed
They don't sell dope, yo, excuse me, yes they do
But they don't look that much like me or you
But if you pull up the sheets and expose them
They'll crawl up like snakes and show fangs of venom
Now I've been soldier for years
Representin' the tattooed tears
Other brothas locked up with no choice
Left in the bowels of devil with no voice
My phones are tapped, my crib is bugged
My car is tailed from club to club
And this ain't no f*ckin' joke
They want to see a nigga broke
You can't slip, if you slip you're out
You gotta know what you're talkin' about
Drop science every chance you get
Hit direct and indirect, speak in code
Cause you're never alone
That's why I use this low tone
Follow this and you might grow older
This is a message to the soldiers...
Now they killed King and they shot X
Now they want me, you could be next
All you gotta do is speak too loud
All you gotta be is be too proud
Cause once you let'em know
Who you are and where you're at
You better watch your back
Cause you might think you're just dope
While you're livin' in a sniper's scope
I'm not tryin' to scare you
But there's a danger if you get too deep
Some nights I don't sleep
All you want to do is tell the truth
All you want to do is save the youth
Ice Cube knows, Souljah knows, P.E. knows
They throw death blows
And if you got kids or a girl that's true
They'll move on them too
But when I'm gone I need you to carry on
You gotta be strong and fight for our salvation
But there will be retaliation, soldier...
To think that rap could be attacked
Is ignorin' the simple fact
That they never ment us to speak
They had planned to keep the black man weak
But rap hit the streets
Black rage amplified over dope beats
Now they want to shut us down
And they don't f*ck around
Check the history books, son
Black leaders die young
They tell us that your words are scary
They're revolutionary
Because we speak the truth
About crime and drugs
And expose the real thugs
This info is not beneficial
To the groups that go by three initals
So they try to discredit
They'll dog you with an edit
Print the words the way you never said it
But we gotta make'em regret it, soldiers...
Word! I know a lot of brothas out there want to get in this war...
You know what I'm sayin'? a lot of sistas got a lot of knowledge
To drop on our people but right now they're movin' to shut down
All hip-hop! The first amendment had absolutely nothin' to do
With black people at the time constitution was written, we were
Considered nothin' but property...The expectation of havin' black
People speak on records never came to mind, so we gotta move!
But belive me all the black leaders have been silenced and most
Of the time it's been violent so if you choose to get in this war,
Realize what you're in for but we gotta move on...
And we gotta stay strong...
Message to the soldiers, welcome to the struggle...
Message to the soldiers, be careful, soldiers...
Writer: ALPHONSO HENDERSON, TRACY LAUREN MARROW
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Aint A Damn Thing Changed
[Verse: Ice-T]
Ban me, try it, you might cause a riot
What the radio won't play the underground we supply it
I'm an MC pirate, this loud not quiet
Radical is they make them, make a rule out they fight
Critics may say I'm wise, some of them call my words lies
I have lived more then one day, then they willin their lies
Cops hate kids and kids hate cops
Cops kill kids with warning shots
What is crime and what is not?
What is justice? I think I forgot
"Squeeze the Trigger," 1986
Ain't a damn thing changed motherf*cker
Ban me, try it, you might cause a riot
What the radio won't play the underground we supply it
I'm an MC pirate, this loud not quiet
Radical is they make them, make a rule out they fight
Critics may say I'm wise, some of them call my words lies
I have lived more then one day, then they willin their lies
Cops hate kids and kids hate cops
Cops kill kids with warning shots
What is crime and what is not?
What is justice? I think I forgot
"Squeeze the Trigger," 1986
Ain't a damn thing changed motherf*cker
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Home Invasion is the fifth studio album by American rapper Ice-T, released on March 23, 1993, via Rhyme $yndicate/Priority Records. It was originally set for release in 1992 as part of his deal with Sire/Warner Bros.
Records, and supposed to be his first official release through his own Rhyme $yndicate record label, now in full control of the content as part of a new distribution deal with Priority Records.
Performed By:
Ice-TRecords, and supposed to be his first official release through his own Rhyme $yndicate record label, now in full control of the content as part of a new distribution deal with Priority Records.
Genre(s): Gangsta rap, political hip hop
Producer(s): Ice-T (also exec.), DJ Aladdin, Slej Tha Ruffedge, Hen-Gee, L.P., Donald D, Trekan, Wolf
Length: 1:13:55
Released: March 23rd, 1993
Year: 1993