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'96
Ah shit Ice-T back Representin, nigga, once again That real shit, nigga I thought you knew, bitch Better recognize [ CHORUS ] Players, check your grip before you get popped Bitches, get my money before you get dropped Gotcha - buggin off the words I say Because this type of pimpin happens every day [ VERSE 1 ] Niggas wanna know my steelo Bitches wanna get with the baddest Hustlin apparatus It's the LA cash flow master-roller No one gets colder, I used to flip boulders Of caine, on my brain, it's outta control, crime plot A dead-ass cop and muthafuckas get got In the game it ain't safe for the weak or the timid Known to break a bitch but barely rarely slide up in it So you see me in a club, grab your woman like you wanna Blink your eyes and the freak is out there freezin on the corner She got caught by the curls and the jewels Lookin for a nigga that is quick to pull tools Now she's breakin herself, makin herself Respect my technique of pimpin, minus all simpin Check it bitches, it ain't nothin nice You're gonna seal or sell pussy if you roll with the Ice [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 2 ] Oh my God, the nigga rolls hard.. Every player mentions me The hustler of the century (Ice, that nigga ain't nothin nice!) I got more freaks than Heff', my bankroll's off vice Commandin straight pimp tactics None of y'all can match this Meet a freak in a week, her workplace a matress Really though, recognize the pimp type flow I don't smoke endo, I count cash on my patio So much love on the streets, don't need no bodyguard Big up to my homies with the pimp type nod I'm off the hook, checkin traps in Vegas [Name] Full link mink with the matchin borsalino I change cars like you change drawers, bitch I got a stable full of thoroughbreds that make me rich Niggas hate me, cause they can't control they roll They see that fat old ass and start givin me cash [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 3 ] |
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Ice-T, nigga
Representin Strictly Westside, nigga South Central in the muthafuckin hiddouse Check the technique, nigga Representin for my real niggas out there Fuck all you buster-ass niggas Word [ VERSE 1 ] Saturday night in L.A., time to play My peoples hummin like a vibrator, gotta make crime pay I'm packin two gats and I wish I could carry more Might sound crazy, but I ran out of slugs before Yeah, I know the feds watch me But my vest clashes hard with the Versace So I'm just rollin in the black five hun' I used to lowride, now it's just for fun I had 5 cars, but now I got one Hard to keep up ballin when you're on the run I got two ki's in my trunk and a shovel Stepped on the one, so now I gots double The shovel's for drama, need I say more? Got the fat stash spot under my passenger floor That's for the other strap, the automatic type I gotta keep it close in case shit gets hype Got a bitch in jail, she didn't snitch, she did three I'ma have to roll solo till they set her free Cause I got some other crimeys down, true gees But they got all day, so now it's just me And I'ma kick this slang until the day I die I can't go straight, I won't even try I'm stuck in the game, so don't ask me why It's life in L.A. I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust Long Beach and Compton are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where the shit goes down [ VERSE 2 ] Now niggas like they credit and they like to get they loans on So I hooked up with my boy who turns them phones on He told me bout this nigga who won't pay He also said he knew excactly where the muthafucka stay So I went and got some homies I hang with Some crazy muthafuckas who I used to bang with We took a trip to his crib I snatched his hoe and his kids, and this is what we did I tied they punk ass up I cracked the safe with an axe, and then the phones we cut I didn't hurt his wife But I promised next time that I would take her life I shot a nigga in his neck for disrespect, caught a body Got a murder in Miami for a shoot-out at a party Got blood in my trunk from a punk who squealed Had a partner tried to play me and his cap I peeled Now I rest with my finger on my heater Hand on my beeper, a light sleeper I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust New York and Philly are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust Frisco and Oakland are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down [ VERSE 3 ] I use to sling enough water you could float a boat You could ski on the mountains of fuckin coke But now most niggas serve chronic So I let em check the bank, and then I'm all up on it I serve em with a cute hoe In a week they tell my bitches 'bout all they dough Then I jack and I kill The jack's for the money, the kill's for thrills I got 9'000 blacks that still serve crack Got a bitch who works the Plaza too on the track Got a GTA connection and I fence for jewels Got some little kids that move my fuckin dope in schools Got warrants for arrest in about 20 states Got a bigger body count than fuckin Norman Bates I'm a killer, jacker, dealer, pimp supreme I'm livin out the hustler dream I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust Houston and Atlanta are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where that shit goes down [ VERSE 4 ] Tonight I gotta meet this nigga from around the way Some think he's cool, I think he's DEA He said he want it bad, he heard that I got it good I bagged up ten ki's of flour and met him in the hood I met him at my spot, cause I know it's cool Pat him down on sight to remove his tool I made him name 10 niggas he should know But that still ain't shit in the game of blow He asked to see the dope, I asked to see the cash He reached for that briefcase too fast A fuckin pig, yo, he thought he had the chump I had my nigga in the closet with a bull pump And now there's fuckin shot-up body all on the floor But that's what the shovel's for... I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust Newark and Miami are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust Detroit and Chicago are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where that shit goes down I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust D.C. and Cleveland are some down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where the shit goes down I lowride and I sag and cuss I cover my face with the rag and bust I know all my niggas live in down-ass towns But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down |
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Yo, what's up with all these niggas
On these muthafuckin records talkin all this bullshit (Man, I don't know about these niggas out here Them other sucker-ass niggas, them old fake-ass bitches) I ain't tryin to hear that shit, man These bitches ain't players, man (Yeah man You know these niggas out here been fakin for years, man I'm glad my nigga Ice comin with that HP shit That high-powered shit..) [ VERSE 1 ] Peace to my street niggas movin that weight Much love to my comrads who's out in upstate Mad connections from the bottom to the top of the game Street fame, I got much that's in touch with my name Got a overload of guns to unload on a lame nigga trippin Wake up my posse, interrup the Remy-sippin Four in your back and keep bailin Listen to the HK wailin and your vital signs failin Everyone that ever met me knows I work bitches like niggas, pimp niggas like hoes Command a mack that's immaculate, your girl's naked You think she ain't been hit, kid yo, you best to check it For ten years I been connected to the top of this Hold your breath, kid, I'm never droppin this Too busy rollin off them fat chrome rims And niggas who trip get sung hymns We crash clubs and security shits Cause they know they got size but they know we keep clips Crazy muthafuckas lickin shots in doors Leavin suckers' bodies bleedin over nightclub floors You don't want none, son, stay gone Break north when I come and you might live long Yeah, my face kickin treble, you're just a pebble You're gettin rocked, yo E, cock the glock And let these niggas know, yo, that the west don't play none Fire shoots out of my strap like a ray-gun You broke ill and you cold fucked up Now you're bleedin through your fingers while you're holdin your gut For real [ CHORUS ] So get your money how you want to, friend But when it's time to count the chips only the real will win (Return of the real) the game of life is only fake and true But it's all about the dollars when the day is through [ Hot Dollar ] (Cause the pimps don't get no bigger Than these here niggas) It's the return of the real (These muthafuckas best to get to recognize Before I gets to chastizin Cause see, the shit all ties in It's just some of that pimp, player, hustler shit Ice-T been around for a while now Nigga was gangbangin when gangbangin wasn't even cool, nigga What you know about that shit?) [ VERSE 2 ] I go deep into the street life's anatomy A nigga take me out - yo, what a upset that'd be And if I fall I fall on cushions, ??? Hittin niggas up with the Tec and watch the blood gushin I see your videos, a 100 niggas in it you don't know Framed in the lens, bought friends Who really got your back, nigga, check it out You really possess like zero street clout (think about) The only place you're safe is in the studio Yellin in the mic, you'se a bitch, that's right I take a nigga like you and make him prostitute cute So what you got a gun, punk, you're scared to shoot You front hardcore, but I don't feel ya Kids from my hood'll take your punk ass and peel ya Let me check my Rolex quick because time's money Squintin from the Pavet face because it's kinda sunny Skinnin the top back, flossin the rag and the thing Feelin the sun, backin off of my pinky ring Hittin the 'Shaw with my niggas and clown Lift the ass, hit the switch, raise the front off the ground But most of the time you can't see a nigga Deep in the archives parlayin new ways to get my bank bigger [ CHORUS ] [ Hot Dollar ] (As I slides up out the do' Gots to give a special props shout out to that nigga the O.G. Got muthfuckin Red in the house [Name] and the muthafuckin ringleader of funk, DJ Ace Hot Dollar's up in this muthafucka If you didn't know Count your muthafuckin blessings and handcuff your hoe You know what I'm sayin? It's all good for my hood Comp-town in the muthafuckin house Nigga don't know well I tell ya like this West Hollywood Hills That's the deal, fool You know I know the rules..) |
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Nobody ever said life was gon' be easy
But damn.. [ VERSE 1 ] Just a kid, moms died when I was seven Pops died, eleven, what's up with heaven? It's hell when you're an orphan at a early age This impressionable stage, no love breeds rage In the heart of a child who never knew his roots Looked up to pimps and to hustlers in the eel-skin boots Parkin Caddies on the sidewalk, gangsta talk Truckin diamonds and gold Rubberbands around the bankrolls Fly girls to make your head spin Seemed they partied all night long I was like, "Put me on" But they said, "Little fellow, run and go play Take your butt to school or else you'll have to be like us one day" I didn't understand, but I tried to get a job While all the players got the girls cause they'd hustle and rob I was like makin 'bout 1-50 a week And after taxes, you know what that is - lunch meat And I know I can be better than this I gotta get me a car, man I gotta get a girl I know I can do it out there, man I'm finna go for it, man I gotta get some money Word [ VERSE 2 ] Streets of anger, trouble and crime I had it hard, had to sleep in my car sometime But I never let another player see me down I kept my front up, my gear clean Even when checkin minor green Brothers knew my game was true So I hooked up with the real crew That knew excactly what to do Bank jobs and jewels, quick to flex with tools Pimpin hoes on the block Checkin cash non-stop Crack spots, armor with interior bars No lie, I used to own 'bout 15 cars Every piece Fila made Drape my women in suede Pavet Piaget, Cesar's Palace holidays It was on, crazy out of control We made up the word 'ballin', that was how we rolled But the FBI had a-whole-nother idea It's called multiple indictments for hundreds of years What Daff is dead? Carter got 25 years? Nah.. Spike 35 to life? Nah, don't tell me B.O.'s dead, man I don't wanna hear that, man I was just with him [ VERSE 3 ] The game is vicious, no retirement, you die young Listen to a fake, he might tell you to grab a gun I get phone calls from condemned row Brothers I ran with, brothers I really know They tell me, "Ice you got much love in the pen You're the one that got away, don't wanna see you in" They tell me, "Tell the little homies the deal Don't let em come up in this hellish habitat of shanks and steel" I marched two million strong in D.C. Lookin eye to eye with brothers that I used to think below me Damn, my mind was twisted in my hustlin days But God spared me, I got a baby son to raise And bein black ain't easy, prejudice is real But health and liberty is all we need for us to build We gotta come together, unseparated Check yourself like I did, blackman, because we're all related |
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Yeah
Too many hardcore muthafuckas out here in this business Ain't gettin their proper loot You know what I'm sayin? (Right) Check the technique (Aha) [ VERSE 1 ] Everybody talkin 'bout the way hip-hop ain't the same Suckers kidnapped the game I know the biggest in the business, and no joke Half of em broke - and none of em smoke (Bust the facts, loc) I got into this hip-hop game Just to try to get a girl and get some light-weight fame There'd never been no cash made in it So who thought you could get paid with it? Just crash the club with my crew and then I'm outta there Hit some skins, act bugged, that was a rap career Then Run-D.M.C. jumped the fuck off Got mad paid, word, kicked the bucks off There wasn't many rappers out there rockin the streets When hip-hop was just cuts and beats I seen Wildstyle , dug the scene I wanna be an MC, rock, rock on - know what I mean? I started crashin rap contests Shootin hardcore rhymes through wack MC's chests I signed on the lines of a wack contract Didn't even read it, fuck that They gonna put my record out I'm gonna be large, know what I'm talkin about? In the first 2 years I made about 300 bucks Yo, this business sucks But I got another chance and I came correct Got a lawyer and accountant, now my shit's legit But many won't get no second chance And get fucked in this biz without a kiss or a dance The game is to exploit young ghetto kids A straight pimp game, and there ain't no shame And the shit's gone too far 100 hip-hop labels with all white A&R's The game's hijacked The rap game's hijacked Let me tell you how it happened [ VERSE 2 ] Now while every MC in the game Was worryin about a white boy gettin the fame They dug out the foundation Now let me give a demonstration Say you got a dope group from the hood Talkin mad shit like they're up to no good You take em to a label Now who sits behind the table? Some jewish muthafucka that don't know shit Tryin to tell y'all what's a fuckin street hit The shit's way off course It's like me tellin Johnny Cash how to sing about his horse You go on tour, the white agency says you're wild Tone down your style The radio jocks are all pop So how the fuck this nigga know what shit to rock? The shit that make your face turn green Is when you get dissed by a kidnap magazine I give a fuck about these muthafuckas I'm doin this jam to save my hip-hop brothers Get your paperwork straight, kid Get a lawyer and accountant just like I did Don't blow your dough, cause you will see g's But this game has no guarantees Learn about publishing points, so you won't be blind Learn to read everything you sign Then you might have a chance If not, bend over, pull down your pants The game's hijacked (Yeah I don't they hear you, brother) Yo, the rap game's hijacked (Word) I'm talkin 'bout a hijack (Say it one more time, baby) The rap game's hijacked Check it (Break it down for these niggas) [ VERSE 3 ] You can go gold and still owe the record label cash Yo kid, check the math Learn about the word 'recoup', troop And stop walkin round all hyped and souped You ain't nothin but somethin to be used and worked You ain't nothin but a sucker to be duped and jerked Cause the fuckin record label don't love ya, pal They didn't love ya on the street and don't love ya now They're out to make an end, friend Cause every dollar you make, they damn near make 10 They'll take you for everything you got Or else they'll sign you and they put on the shelf to rot I'm tryin to tell you what's up You best to listen to this record even if you hate my fucking guts Cause I just can't stand around and watch rap get done And my brothers ain't gettin none A nigga like me has gotta spit game Nigga, get that cash flow. fuck that muthafuckin fame Cause the white man's rippin us off once again Real hip-hop, my man Fool, the rap game's hijacked You need to listen, nigga The rap game's hijacked Need to play this record about ten times The rap game's hijacked Black people don't own shit The rap game's hijacked Check it R&B's hijacked Black acting is hijacked Just being black is hijacked (Build, my nigga, build, my nigga) Nigga Stupid muthafuckas, they rippin us off You better get a end.. While the money's there, boy Silly-ass bitch runnin around with a gold chain All niggas gotta get some real estate Muthafucka Come up Fuck a bitch Better get somethin you can own, asshole White man ain't givin up shit Word o' life Although I got a white engineer But he's gettin minimum wage So it's cool... Yeah Shit's been hijacked |
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( Ice-T )
Yo Rich man, these girls ready to get busy? ( Big Rich ) Ah man, you know they on deck ( Ice-T ) Yo, what's up with they men, though? ( Big Rich ) Come on, men squares, man Can't no square keep no woman ( Ice-T ) Right I guess they just wanna find out what it's like on the other side Girls wanna keep it real Gotta love em for it I love a woman with courage ( Big Rich ) Yeah, there she go right there, man ( Ice-T ) Yeah, I'm break her off somethin proper I'ma represent, check it out ( Ice-T ) Now although your friends warned you 'bout us westside macks Girl, you was willin to take a chance and I respect you for that And at last we're all alone, baby, just you and I, don't try to lie I know what's on your mind, I'm lookin straight through your eyes ( Big Rich ) So let that hair down and let that body go free And come close because tonight it belongs to me No brother's doin it like this westside mack Ride you like my Chevy, hit that ass front and back Now tell me ( Big Rich ) Now how does it feel to make love to a gee? Do you wanna go back to your man or, baby, stay here with me? Now how does it feel to make love to a gee? Strictly on the Westside where I ride, now, baby, come roll with me ( Big Rich ) Now two hours done passed but then it's only gettin better My body is gettin hotter while yours is gettin wetter Wanna roll up in your river like a steamboat Pretend you're takin a bath and I'm your piece of chalice soap ( Ice-T ) Oh my girl, can you feel what I'm feelin now? As you turn around I'm lookin at that brown Sugar fat coated ass I just can't let it pass Gotta move on it fast Now tell me, baby ( Big Rich ) Now how does it feel to make love to a gee? Do you wanna go back to your man or, baby, stay here with me? Now how does it feel to make love to a gee? Strictly on the Westside where I ride, now, baby, come roll with me ( Ice-T ) Alright, check this out, girls Me and my man Big Rich, we got an idea Why don't we just use body language Let our bodies do all the talking And just kick back and enjoy the erotic conversation ( Big Rich ) Hello Sunshine, now you did quite fine Shall we rewind, relive these good times? I feel your body gettin hot again Girl, don't you know I'm 'bout to dive on in? (It's never gonna stop until I know it's truly over) I got some more oil I wants to stick up in your motor And kiss you on the grill, squeeze your headlights Rub your bumper kitten, gettin nasty like a triple x-rated flick ( Ice-T ) I know you're feelin what I'm feelin, sexual energy Time to chill and pour another glass of Hennessy I hit it again like a gangster should And give you somethin to tell them girls up the hood Now how does it feel? ( Big Rich ) Now how does it feel to make love to a gee? Do you wanna go back to your man or, baby, stay here with me? How does it feel to make love to a gee? Strictly on the Westside where I ride, now, baby, come roll with me ( Ice-T ) Yeah, this is Ice-T and Big Rich signin off And to all the curious ladies out there Take your chance I promise, you won't be sorry |
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Yeah
This is goin out to all those muthafuckas That like to use the word 'gangster' Although I am the O.G. I'm representin that hustlin game To the end, nigga I'm tryin to make the loot loop [ VERSE 1 ] I ain't no muthafuckin gangsta, wish you'd quit callin me that Although I still pack straps I roll in Benzes and Lacs Best believe the gats in my promo shots ain't props I hang out sunroof tops and pop glocks at cops (Yo, how ya livin?) On the mellow, coolin with my fellow Hustlers, players, super bitch-layers Mackaronies on the true d-l - hell, most Fuckin with my niggas you could end up ghost I made a million, got my shit out pawned Bailed out the homies, now the shit's back on Moved out the ghetto, cause I hate it But I roll through your fuckin hood and regulate it Cause I wasn't born to be broke, I let the .45th smoke Before I let my baby boy go under, no wonder I'm addicted to the cash flow, stacks of green Flashback, I'm nudgin weights down a triple beam I'ma make the loot loop [ CHORUS ] As fast as I spend it I'm tryin to get back in it I make the loot loop It's cop and blow Nigga, that's all I know I make the loot loop As fast as I spend it I'm tryin to get back in it I make my loot loop Nigga I'm tryin to make my bank roll bigger [ VERSE 2 ] I must admit, I got a lust for loot, quick to shoot Ostrich, fruits and Austin Martin coupes Fill my dreams with cream, I got wet sheets I'm bustin nuts over currency, kid, fuck freaks We be the niggas in the back of the club with the Moet Bitches, shrimps, mackin like pimps Wearin fly shit you never seen before (raw) I turn a angel to a whore, now need I say more? My perm got bounce, fuck a 40 ounce I'm sippin Cristal, pal, and represent I shall To the end of the game (That nigga Ice got fame) And just not over these beats But on the 4-wheel streets I make the loot loop [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 3 ] Say what you will, I'm the fool on the hill With the pool, jaccuzzi, laser-beam Uzi Niggas in LA know the Ice don't play I'm just a savage for the cabbage and a pimp parlay I rock a million with the jewels on the paw (don't start) Cause my niggas ain't the big ones, just big guns Pushin the limits of this game till I gets my piece I put my true queen Darlene in a white Corniece So stay broke if you wanna, hang out on your corner Step back from the curb when we roll up on ya 20 black cars all tinted, we meant it 'Syndicate forever - posse of the clever' Rubberbands strap the fat green knots We're strictly hustlers not gangsters, but we still lick shots For the goal Peace, I'm out like Nicole (Get down Get down) Nigga The bank's getting bigger Yeah I'm makin the loot loop Straight player for life Yeah Hustler's side |
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Meet me in the trial !
Its goin down ! Meet me in the mall ! Its goin down ! Meet me in the club ! Its goin down ! Anywhere ya meet me garenteed its goin down ! |
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[Ice-T]
Yeah, Shit is going down again! This motherfuckers want me back in! Fuck! [Method Man: Word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war!] 4x Get out the H-K! Fuck! Niggaz talking crazy cause they say That I kill one-a-day motherfucker Sucker ass busters, did he, did not, I got more drama with the niggaz from the other side Call my nigga Rich and he's right! [Big Rich] Fuck them niggaz I got a truck full of 38, some bullet shields Ice, we can send this niggaz all to Hell I never like them niggaz from the gat Go use to braken my craps and fuck all the motherfuckin hoes! [Ice-T] Made another car-hit 30 Killers on the hip, ready to rock, packin, eggin and Glocks Man connections who trips the question Niggaz on the way to play in a laser rain. [Big Rich] Nigga you got two strikes and I got two strikes we can feudally no fuckin witness tonight But if this is what they want is like Christmas to me It's been a long time since the Big Rich caught a body [Ice-T] Fuck it, I Like the way you think my man I pack 20 motherfuckers in a ??? van We bash abd creeo about 12:30, dirty Nigga be ready to roll, I know you heard me! [Big Rich] Nigga it's on, so don't trip I'm down I got to saw ??? and I'm ready to claw Bless the nigga in the Face kill his fuckin hoe, Ice, you don't did this kind of shit with me before! [Method Man: Word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war!] 8x They want me back in! niggaz want me back in! They want me back in! Damn! [Ice-T] niggaz wanne ill, but my nigga get iller, streets full of hardcore stone-face Killers, one Love my nigga Big Rich puff I don't get high, I wanne see some niggaz die! [Big Rich] Yo, some niggaz hit the corner with the lights of Ice, that shit don't look nuthin nice, but if this niggaz wanne rollin my Hood, Yo then fuck it, brake out the whole World, boys fuckin buck it. [Ice-T] Niggaz pulled out my crew is ready Me turn the fire rock the punks steady when they shoot and stop car look like confetti Went my ass home jump back in the bed G [Big Rich] Fuck why they wanna fuck with us When they know my posse is crazy and they down to bust Big Rich take no shit from these busta ass tricks Check your punk ass nigga like check a bitch [Ice-T] I got no love for no nigga flippin, trippin on my fam Got damn, I make L.A. hot as Vietnam but ill niggaz should be left alone, please excuse me, while I rest my dome! [Method Man: Word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war!] 8x They want me back in niggaz want me back in They want me back in Why......niggaz want me back in? |
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Yeah
This is Ice-T I'ma slow it down for a minute I wanna talk to all the ladies out there I got my man J-e-ll in the house I got a message I wanna send out to all the fly ladies, yeah Check me out [ VERSE 1: Ice-T ] It's time for me to kick game And if I can't do it, then ladies, Ice ain't my name Now real brothers ain't easy to understand And it's a long hard road to become a man Drama seeks and chases him through every year His homie dies, you might see him shed a tear But mostly hardcore feelings are all you see Cause you gotta be raw to be called a gee But every man slows down You'll see this side when there's probably no one around And there's no safer place Than if you ever are some gee's homebase But it ain't easy, these brothers got barricades around the hearts It's gonna take time before the trust starts But girl, you must be true Cause if your man's a gee, he'll definitely die for you Look him deep in his eyes, let him know you're there Show him that you really care Trust me, you move with time Through the darkened halls of his mind You just might find [ Bobby Ross Avila ] The me inside of a gangsta Yo, Jell You know what I'm sayin? I try to represent for all the brothers out there And I know my latin homies have the same drama with they girls, man Won't you let em know how it's goin down [ VERSE 2: Jell ] Man, I'm lookin for a hina that's down But you don't have to be brown If you wanna hang around All you gotta do is stay in check Cause if you're rubbin me right Then you can bet you'll get respect And that's why I guess my feelings will have to show How can you hide somethin that's in your soul? Cause there's more to the l-o-c Than all the violence, baby, that ain't who I be I know my dogs and me can still pull straps But I rather have you rollin in my Cadillac Cause when we cruisin, thangs is all good And that goes for every vato in the hood Now sometimes it's hard to show the other side Especially when my crew is caught up in a homicide Cause East L.A. don't play And if I had my way I'd kick it with you everyday [ Ice-T ] Whether black or brown, the situation's the same Different hoods, but the same game Some girls won't take their time Others will stroll through our souls and find [ Bobby Ross Avila ] The me inside of a gangsta |
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Ice-T back in that ass
Return of the real Muthafuckas fakin and frontin like they don't know what time it is Niggas on the streets ain't really got a muthafuckin choice Muthafucka (So niggas is forced to do dirt) |
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(I cramp your style
With a bullet and a smile) |
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[Hen-Gee]
Dear Homie, whats the hap, since your up in the sky? With God by your side Homie what's it like? I know your bein' treated right No more worries Plus you're bein heard G I guess you know niggaz is still trippin I don't know why, they see a future in it We're headed for self-destruction Can't function Only thing I can do is pray And thank God, for another day Yes Homie, it's rough down here. I gotta watch my back Cos it's hard being black If it ain't the other It's my own colour Tryin to work me Tryin to hurt me Ain't no L-O-V-E Please tell me why, Dear Homie [Ice-T] Dear Homie, gang-bangin ain't joke And I'm lookin over ya loc Always knew there was fools out to get me I didn't even hear the gunshots till after the slugs hit me I grabbed for my chest and my neck, hopin When my head hit the ground my skull busted open You used to ask for my advice Well Dear Homie, dyin ain't nothin nice And the place I'm at is overpacked With young blacks who crash crack and gats I can only pray You don't come this way You gotta stay alive, you got a kid G I feel ya partner but I worry alot Bust shots I know you're tryin' to comfort me But I don't want no company, Homie [Hen-Gee] Dear Homie, even though you're gone I still fell your presence Sometimes I can sleep Cos I just can't see Reality like it really should be seen I still reminisce on how we used to kick it Strollin' the yard, just hangin' out together Down for whatever, whenever And now I'm hopin, you're seeing a true friend in me we where meant to be [Ice-T] Dear Homie, you used to call me O.G. Now ya really gotta look up to me Cos the place I'm at, is way high in the sky I didn't want to die But the life I lived was just to reckless Too many bad marks on God's checklist And many many brothers will go out Just tryin to get that hard-core street clout But a street reps final test, is when you're lying in a coffin with you're hands folded on your chest. Then ya hear the girls cry Then ya hear the brothers lie Talkin' about how down you was Then the next week the back on the street, they cold forgot ya cuz'. Don't wanna see ya on your back, So for me stay sucka free, cos you don't need that, Homie. Dear Homie... Dear Homie... Ya know I miss ya Homie... |
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