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1:20 | 
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Once again I'm back in the place to be
The I, the C, the E, the T I'll never get a Grammy, so fuck the G All I need is crowd, and my M-I-C Got a gangster ass DJ named Evil E My record label's called Warner B William Morris is my agency I'll never go broke, I got property Got a dope pitbull named Felony Got four gold albums So what you tell'n me? Power was two, Iceberg was three This one here shipped five hundred G Now when I roll, I roll stupid deep Benz's, Bemers, and boomin' Jeeps I'm always strapped Cause my money I keep You move on the Ice And you're goin' to sleep But when you see me Walkin' down the street You say, "What's up Ice?" And I say, "Peace!" You give me a dap, I give you one back Cause I ain't souped So forget about that We might take pictures Sign n utograph Kick a little flavor Have some fun and laugh But step to me wrong You might get shot And wind up lookin' out a ziplock!!! |
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3:29 | 
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| from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997) | |||||
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4:14 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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1:42 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Before I go id like to say a few things. this album was completed on january 15th 1991. By now the war has probably started and a whole bunch of people have probably died out there in the desert over some bullshit. Theres a war goin on right now in my neighborhood but I cant really determine which one is worse..I think the one that we are all fightin is fucked up and thats the war inside out brains you know. but uh I feel bad about all the brothers and sisters gettin pulled right out of their neighborhoods all the citys and small towns in america that go over there and fight for that bullshit. that most of them dont really have anything to do with. So I gotta send peace out to em. Also peace out to all my homies in jail brothers that are dead locked up right here on earth..talkin about the brothers in solidad, san quetin, all the way up to pelicans bay, tracy, chino, and all my homeboys out there in the east coast lockdown facilities. Im talkin about clinton, rikers, jolead, you know every prison in the whold fuckin world man, thats like you know all bullshit you know. they say slavery has been abolished except for the convicted felon yall need to think about that. that lets you know what the fuckin constitution is really about you know. Alot of my homeboys have been locked down
my whole entire career and thats some bullshit. So for them from the Rhyme Syndicate and Ice-T Id like to send this special shout out...Fuck the police, Fuck the FBI, Fuck the DEA, Fuck the CIA, Fuck Tipper Gore, Bush and his cripple bitch this is Ice-T im out of here, told ya you shoulda killed me last year.. |
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3:48 |
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from Body Count - Born Dead (1994)
You say that I hang out all night, that's okay,
'Cause you drink all muthafuckin' day You come home hit mom, smack mom, beat mom, Raise another brew to your face with you Swollen palm Then you come in my room talkin' crazy shit Sayin' I'm high, I'm on dope and I better quit Muthafucka, if I was high you would die, Hit my mom once more and it's bye-bye Chorus: Who are you tryin' to judge me ? Get the fuck out my face Who put you so above me ? Clear the fuck out my space You say that I want sex all the time That's all that seems to be on my muthafuckin' mind Well that's right I want sex all the time That's all that seems to be on my muthafuckin' mind Well that's right I want sex every minute, Every hour of the day, Of the week, all the muthafuckin' time But hold up who are you tryin' to talk shit, You'll hit your knees suckin' dick with a quickness In the park, dark, car, grass, lickin' nuts, Suckin' butt, With your tongue up my fuckin' ass, Chorus Get the fuck out my face Yeah Chorus You need to stay the fuck out my face Stay the fuck out my got damnned face |
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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8:58 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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4:24 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 muthafuckin house All duck MC's get flat, muthfuckas 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, fuck 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 muthafuckin bear trap Ice muthafuckin 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 wanna 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 muthafuckin biz I never sell out, cause it's no sale, kid Hardcore to my heart from the fuckin start Whether done over beats or loud guitars I drop the dope hits Case you forgot, I invented this gangsta shit You wanna 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 muthfuckas 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 Muthafuckas 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 fuckin 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 fuckin 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 |
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4:24 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 muthafuckin house All duck MC's get flat, muthfuckas 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, fuck 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 muthafuckin bear trap Ice muthafuckin 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 wanna 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 muthafuckin biz I never sell out, cause it's no sale, kid Hardcore to my heart from the fuckin start Whether done over beats or loud guitars I drop the dope hits Case you forgot, I invented this gangsta shit You wanna 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 muthfuckas 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 Muthafuckas 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 fuckin 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 fuckin 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 |
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0:36 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
attention!
at this moment you are now listening to an Ice-T LP if you are offended by words like shit, bitch, f**k, dick, ass, hole, cunt, dirty bitch, low motherf**ker, nigga, hooker, slut, tramp, dirty low slut tramp bitch hole, nigga f**k shit, whateva.. take the tape out now! this is not a pop album and by the way suck my motherf**kin' dick |
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0:36 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
attention!
at this moment you are now listening to an Ice-T LP if you are offended by words like shit, bitch, f**k, dick, ass, hole, cunt, dirty bitch, low motherf**ker, nigga, hooker, slut, tramp, dirty low slut tramp bitch hole, nigga f**k shit, whateva.. take the tape out now! this is not a pop album and by the way suck my motherf**kin' dick |
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
Way down in New Orleans, yeah. I met this old lady, she said she'd teach me 'bout Voodoo she said she knew about Voodoo (Voodoo) she said she'd teach me 'bout Voodoo she said she knew about Voodoo (Voodoo) She had an old doll, she had a long shiny needle (Voodoo) she held the doll in the air it looked kinda like me she took the needle, stuck it in its eye! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! My eye, bitch! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! Now I'm still in the room with this crazy bitch, and she still had the doll. She said I'll teach you 'bout Voodoo, (Voodoo) you wanna learn about Voodoo (Voodoo) She said I'll teach you 'bout Voodoo. (Voodoo) she said she knew about Voodoo She held the doll in her hand (Voodoo) she had some long shiny scissors, she said some magic words (Voodoo) the doll looked more and more like me she held the doll in the air (Voodoo) she took the scissors, cut off all its fingers! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! My fingers, bitch! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Voodoo, Voodoo Voodoo, Voodoo So if you're ever down in New Orleans, yeah. You might meet an old lady she might have a doll it might look like you. Don't ask about the Voodoo (Voodoo) stay away from Voodoo (Voodoo) leave alone the Voodoo, (Voodoo) muthafuck the Voodoo. |
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3:43 |
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from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997)
Electrocution
Gassed Shot in the head Car crashed Overdosed Strangulation Burnt alive Violent demise You're goin down hard Violent demise Violent demise You're goin down hard Violent demise Decapitated Drowned Assassinated Gunned down Stabbed in the neck Suicide Buried alive Violent demise CHORUS Live your life, you probably won't live to see 25. Those trusted to protect you will get you. Watch your back you still die. Every man must die, we walk around in this illusion called life. You gotta go for it now there's no time, there's no time. Violent demise Mutilated Hit Poisoned to death Skull split Disemboweled Skinned Spikes in your eyes Violent demise CHORUS |
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3:14 |
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from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997)
Lies, betrayal, lies
truth or death. Lies, betrayal, lies. Who the fuck can I trust the whole fuckin' world is built on deception, false perception, look you dead in the eye and lie, your best friend'll stab you in the back yo, what the fuck is that. Politicians lie, what the fuck is that your lover lies, what the fuck is that. The police lies, what the fuck is that the church fuckin' lies, what the fuck is that. CHORUS Somebody tell me where's the truth every holy book is written by man probably by a liar's hand and if you feel that public schools are teachin' truth to the youth, motherfucka you livin' a lie too. Lawyers lie, what the fuckis that doctorslie, what the fuck is that doctors lie, what the fuck is that your mother and father lie, what the fuck is that You lie to yourself yo, what the fuck is that There is no truth only varaiations of lies. Don't try to figure it out honesty is extinct and if it ever did exist the human race took it out. |
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| from Trespass (Music From The Motion Picture) by 트레스패스 [single, ost] (1992) | |||||
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4:34 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
[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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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
[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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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
There goes the neighborhood.
Here come them fuckin' niggas with their fancy cars. Who gave them fuckin' niggas those rock guitars? Who let 'em in the club? Did you make 'em pay? Who let 'em on the stage? Whose lettin' 'em play? Don't they know rock's just for whites don't they know the rules? Those niggers are too hard core this shit ain't cool. Those blacks want everything in the fuckin' world That nigga plays so good he took my muthafuckin' girl there goes the neighborhood. There goes the neighborhoooooood, There goes the neighborhood, There goes the neighborhood There goes the neighborhood. Da, Da, Da, Da, Da We're here, We ain't goin' nowhere. We're movin' right next door to you, Body Count, muthafucka. And those of you that don't like it can suck, my muthafuckin' dick, ha, ha, ha, ha. There goes the neighborhood! Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha There goes the neighborhood! Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha There goes the neightborhoooooood! There goes the neighborhood! Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha There goes the neighborhood! Here come them fuckin' niggas with their fancy cars. Who gave them fuckin' niggas those rock guitars? Who let 'em in the club? Did you make 'em pay? Who let 'em on the stage? Whose lettin' 'em play? Don't they know rock's just for whites Don't they know the rules? Those niggas are too hard core this shit ain't cool. Those blacks want everything in the fuckin' world. That nigga plays so good, he took my muthafuckin' girl. There goes the neighborhood There, there, there, there goes the neighborhood. |
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
My friend's addicted to cocaine
Smokes day and night Drives mom and pop insane. Living his life in the dark light Every dollar he gets goes into the pipe. He wants to borrow some money from me Do you think I'm blind Don't know the score Can't see? You wanna get high as the sky (you're kissin' your life goodbye) you're kissin' your life goodbye (you think it's a game) you think it's a game that you play (but the winners lose) but the winners lose it all someday. Ya don't know who you are Are you losin' your mind? Things get a little tight he committed a crime. Give me your money or give me your life! You better empty your pockets because ya, Ya don't live twice. You wanna get high as the sky (you're kissin' your life goodbye) you're kissin' your life goodbye (you think it's a game) you think it's a game that you play (but the winners lose) but the winners lose it all someday. He took the money to the dope man And he said he had the best Next thing ya knew, cardiac arrest! It was a rollercoaster, he couldn't get off Next thing I knew my friends' life was lost. nooooooooo. You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You think it's a game, you think it's a game, You wanna get high as the sky (you're kissin' your life goodbye) you're kissin' your life goodbye (you think it's a game) you think it's a game that you play (but the winners lose) but the winners lose it all someday. You wanna get high as the sky (you're kissin' your life goodbye) you're kissin' your life goodbye (you think it's a game) you think it's a game that you play (but the winners lose) but the winners lose it all someday. You wanna get high as the sky (you're kissin' your life goodbye) you're kissin' your life goodbye (you think it's a game) you think it's a game that you play (but the winners lose) but the winners lose it all someday. You wanna get high as the sky. |
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3:58 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
I'm rollin' up in a big gray bus
And I'm shackled down Myself that's who I trust The minute I arrived Some sucker got hit Shanked ten times Behind some bullshit Word in the pen the fool was a snitch So without hesitatin' I made a weapon quick If found a sharp piece of metal Taped it to a stick Then a bullhorn sounds That means it's time for chow My first prison meal The whole feeling was foul It wasn't quite my style But my stomach growled So I flushed the shit down And hit the weight pile The brothers was swole The attitudes was cold Felt the tension on the yard From the young and the old But I'm a warrior I got my ground to hold So I studied the inmates To see who hd the power the Whites? The Blacks? Or just the gun tower! In a blink of an eye, a riot broke out Blacks put their backs to the wall Cause it was north and south A gun man shouts And everybody had doubt Until the bullets started fly'n Took two men out Thn they rushed everybody Back to their cells Damn the pen is different than The county jail I'm in a one man cell I know my life's on a scale I wonder if that gunman is goin' to hell This is my second day I got a ten year stay I learned my first lesson In the pen you don't plaay I saw a brother kill another Cause he said he was gay But that's the way it is It been that way for years and when his body hit the ground I heard a couple of cheers It kind of hurt me inside That they were glad he died and I ask myself Just who had the power? The Whites? The Blacks? Or just the gun tower! You see the Whites got a thing The call White pride The Blacks got the muscle Mexicans got the knives You better be wise You wanna stay alive Go toe to toe with a sucka No matter wht size A fool tried to sweat me Act'n like he was hard I stuck him twice in the neck And left him dead in the yard It was smooth how I did it Cause nobody could see With my jacket on my arm And my knife on the side of me Bam bam, it was over Another one bites the dust I went crazy in the pen With nobody to trust Bench'n ten quarters, so I'm hard to sweat Used a tat gun, and engrved my set They call me a lifer Cause I'm good as dead I live in the hole, so the floor's my bed And I ask myself again Who has the power The Whites? The Blacks? Or just the gun tower |
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
The problem isn't the lyrics on the records.
It's the fear of the white kids liking a black artist. But the real problem is the fear of the white girl falling in love with the black man. |
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
[ CHORUS ]
The fast lane, half heart, half money Ain't nobody smilin, ain't nothin funny Raise the risk, raise the profit And can't nobody stop it Unless your game's weak So baby, don't sleep The fast lane, half heart, half money Ain't nobody smilin, ain't nothin funny Raise the risk, raise the profit And can't nobody stop it Unless your game's weak So player, don't sleep [ VERSE 1 ] The streets crawl with ill niggas on the block Goin hand in hand Leanin in and out of sedans Pumpin crack dreams to crack fiends for a fee Their dream is to re-up to a ki Cops watch the influx of dope Through a telescope Snitches in the game Give the young g's names Bitches on the jock Of the hustlers on the block Jump from gee to gee Similar to a flea Suck the blood out, or in this case the dough Roll with the blow till considered a hoe Babies are born and pawned off to grandmama The bitch ain't done, she still lives for the drama Lookin for another baller To hit and never call her All in vain Life in the Lane A new crew of hookers on the track from up north Vice cops, they watch em stroll back and forth They take a pay-off Or a blow job just to lay off The Lane's no joke Yo, you players stay broke A ghetto garage makes a nice laboratory PCP and crystal meth, wars of glory End of story, gotta watch my back myself Or else they'll find my body layin on a coroner shelf It's the Lane [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 2 ] Gees take the game on the road to Minnesota Supermarket's all sold out on baking soda Gangbangers start to understand the dope game fast Kidnap the drug dealers for the ransom cash Gotta represent, what you say you are, that's a star Feds got a homing device on your car That made you easy to follow to Denver, Colorado Birds you had, 12 now you got a l Crack babies born in the hospitals cryin Drive-by shootings can't end, kids are dyin The cream is the ultimate goal Gots to roll Till my cash flow's mega Baller not a beggar Bitches workin plastic with the fake ID's Life in the Lane, stackin up g's Chop shops taggin up Benzes and Beamers Crack spots boilin full kilos in beakers Damn, the game's quicker than shit, don't slip Cause bet your life there'll be another hustler checkin yo grip It's the Lane [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 3 ] Brother on parole need a quick lick to come up The score went bad, now he's back stuck Bitches settin niggas up jacked and waxed Small-time workers movin weight in a g ride Lac Don't talk on your cellular, your phone is tapped Don't check the rear view, there's no turnin back It's the Lane, now you're in it, hit the gas and mash Through the land of the hardcore hoes and cash Jackers and robbers, hustlers and clockers Everybody'll squeal, take the l or the deal Yo, spin the wheel, for the cops you're a meal Tailor suits gator boots make the fly hoes kneel But if you miss, my friend, guess what you win A one-way ticket to the federal state pen It's the Lane you chose, you fill your shit, ride Rolls High-priced clothes, baddest fuckin hoes Anything goes, there's no limit, just mash The cops will be there when you crash [ CHORUS ] |
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4:22 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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4:27 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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0:57 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
You know the houe down the street
Where the kids are and every day They seem to have a new scar Something strange is going on And everybody knows Doors always shut Windows always closed The little girl had a burn The boy was black and blue They said it came from play You know that shit ain't true The boy's arm's broke Girl's scared to speak Their parents drink all day Couple of dead beats Some days they go to school And other days they might It's hard to stay awake After you cry all night You see 'em every daay Tear tracks on their cheeks But they will never tell It goes on weeks and weeks (But what can they do? They're only children man!) You ain't no fuckin' kid Act like you give a damn! Won't someone save these kids Do something, call a cop The other night I heard gun shots! |
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4:10 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
He yo, Ice
This guy here say he wants to get in, man You're sure homeboy's ready? Yo Ice, this nigga said he's ready, man Yo, kid you're sure you wanna be down with this, right? Yeah, I'm sure, I'm ready Aight Know what you're in for, right? [ VERSE 1 ] Blood flows like sands in the hourglass Cash moves everything Bitches in g strings Gats flashin, mothers make cream on a stick move Improve your dope flow Cold max with the long dough High rollin, back breakin plot diggers The ill niggas Comanche style Blood letting weapons of death Stop your breath If you trip on the click A hot thump to your chest And your back just rips You wanna be a made man The fam accepts no mistakes Chopped up bodies, lots of funeral wakes Make your bones Bring a rat back dead just ahead A cop's better Use this beretta Snitch, bet your bitch She in a pre-dug ditch Cause I command a whole batallion of life takers Plus the other bosses wanna see yo guts Check your nuts Dump the bodies in the desert Here's the keys to a truck Me, I'm overloaded, born hard and scarred Crime intellect More complex than nerves in your spinal chord Bank job my forte Not off of gunplay Hostage taker I killed my brother with a salt shaker He tried to short me a buck What the fuck? A nigga that lies Is a nigga that dies No cries for the punk He got trunked and bombed Since he tried to steal I chainsawed his arm I drink blood from a cup when I wanna then Plus the bosses up north made me kill my friend They told me, "This ain't no game, kid, you're in it You're down with the Syndicate, but never admit it" [ CHORUS ] Muthafucka, now you're down for life Rat on the fam and we'll kill your wife Fuck up a scam and you'll feel the knife Who is this? (The Syndicate does not exist) [ VERSE 2 ] A thousand ki's, off-shore private yacht Really ain't no sweat, Coast Guard and customs are bought Columbian-Mexicano connect Raise the bet One DEA woudn't roll, we pulled his tongue through his neck Just a message to the rest: don't test Housing developments are built on the bodies Of punks who wouldn't party Big shots are called from the pen's inner sanctum Where the mega-gees Regulate the streets, fuck release They got power that you can't comprehend, my friend They want you dead, yo, you're dead before the daylight ends Your eyes shiver and you grit your teeth You sold your soul, now cold blood's how you get relief Now you do what we do, say what I say Muthafucka, don't blink unless I say okay This is a organization, not a one-man gang And you die if I ever hear you spilled my name [ CHORUS ] My friend, I thought this day would never come (What do you mean, man? Hey!) Who was there when your wife had your first child? (Hey, why you're lookin at me like that, man?) Who looked out for you when no one else was there? (Hey, I'm your friend, man!) Now word's out you're talkin to the feds about me (..they lyin, man) There's only one thing I can do (Hey man, wait a -) You treat me like a bitch (Hey yo - ) ( *shots* ) Now look at you! Look at you, muthafucka! Now look at you! [ VERSE 3 ] Cops on the take, I got moves to make Feds ain't that easy, I still got em to shake They had my man's bitch wired for a month and a half Snatched my nigga up in Aspen, bail's five million Bounced him out in a hour - power Went and met him quick, hit him with a ice pick Can't take no chances, he romancin with whores No tellin what he spilled when behind closed doors The fam's protection and loyalty is top priority Violate, your body is found in three states Cargo is heat on a Hong Kong cruiser ??? contact ??? No cash, they want a ton of crystal meth High risk'll bring more riches than the national debt We launder money through he s&l's and pro-ball teams Ain't no business untouched when it comes to cream Documents forged from my hitters from Jamaica In and out of town before you hit the ground This is the mob, baby, now you're on, no off-switch Suffocation ??? you snitch [ CHORUS ] |
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4:39 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 wanna bust, didn't wanna play the game I walked to Crenshaw high, shit was fly I hooked up with new cru Some brothas that knew what the fuck 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 fucked 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 fucked you can be Came back to the hood My homies had done good Had elevated their game About 100 gees a lick, no mothafuckin' 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 thru 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 nite 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 mothafuckin' place And I aint lyin', that's how you dyin'... |
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5:45 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 wanna bust, didn't wanna play the game I walked to Crenshaw high, shit was fly I hooked up with new cru Some brothas that knew what the fuck 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 fucked 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 fucked you can be Came back to the hood My homies had done good Had elevated their game About 100 gees a lick, no mothafuckin' 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 thru 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 nite 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 mothafuckin' place And I aint lyin', that's how you dyin'... |
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4:38 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 wanna bust, didn't wanna play the game I walked to Crenshaw high, shit was fly I hooked up with new cru Some brothas that knew what the fuck 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 fucked 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 fucked you can be Came back to the hood My homies had done good Had elevated their game About 100 gees a lick, no mothafuckin' 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 thru 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 nite 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 mothafuckin' place And I aint lyin', that's how you dyin'... |
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| from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996) | |||||
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| from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996) | |||||
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| from Ice-T - Power (2001) | |||||
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5:41 |
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from Body Count - Born Dead (1994)
Yeah Yeah
Murder, death As I search to analyze reality, the true Meaning of life, Out simple existence means nothing God has a gun, the truth, life is a slow noose He's invincible Better watch his knife, There is no escape from the slow kill When it's time to go god serves a death blow, You have no choice, don't even try The only choice is suicide Surviving the game No escape No one's ever escaped Die |
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0:18 |
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from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997)
Suck the rangers dick , bring him to mothafuckin pain,
Suck the sheeys up my ass crack, act like my balls are full of oxygen and your drowning bitch, Play real, all that old im cute and, Bitch go get a basketball player, this is rock bitch |
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4:33 |
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from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997)
A porno star, you're in 3-D,
you're right in front of me, under the strobe lights, moving that ass right, lap dance, I'm 'bout to bust in my pants. Goddamn baby, take my money, take my life, I'll diss friends, I'll leave my wife. Every night I'm in the front row waitin. Contemplating, masturbating. Tell me what to do and it's done, You whisper in my ear tell me I'm the one, last night I think I gave you 15 hun, but as for a date, I can't get one. Strippers I want my dick sucked. Strippers I wanna bust a nut. (MONOLOGUE) CHORUS You're worse than a whore, you won't fuck. I wanna fuck you so damn bad I'll give you anything you want you can have my pad. Girl I'll kill for you, take my jewels, my cash. Just put that pussy on my dick and baby move that ass. Your tits are so fat, I wanna suck 'em dry Push your clit near my face, I just might try Stick that ass out, stick it out baby, you simulate your suckin my dick drives me crazy. I wanna ram it in your ass right now, tonight baby I think I gave ya damn near two thou, you push your puss on my dick you make my balls turn blue - Don't make me rape you. Strippers CHORUS |
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2:24 |
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from Body Count - Born Dead (1994)
Drugs, liquor, drugs
I love to smoke crack I love to shoot smack I love to fuckin' drink I love my smoke when it stinks I need it in my veins I need it in my brain What has it done to me Street lobotomy Chorus My brain - melted - down Brain - melted - down - lobotomy Need some more dope man Yeah got Any acid dude Got any ludes Chorus Drugs, liquor, drugs? I love to do blow That's the way to go You got some PCP? How 'bout some LSD? I'm havin' lots of fun I might as well use a gun Don't even ask my why Maybe I wanna die Chorus |
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0:41 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
(feat. Bodycount)
[Intro: Ice-T Talking] This next track is dedicated to some personal friends of mine, the L.A.P.D For every cop that's ever take an advantage off somebody Beat him down or hurt him, because they got long hair Listen to the wrong kind of music, bronde color Whatever they thought was the reason to do it For every one of those fuckin' police I'd like to take a pig out here in this parking lot And shoot them in their motherfuckin' face [Verse 1: Ice-T] Cop killer, yeah I got my black shirt on I got my black gloves on I got my ski mask on This shit's been too long I got my twelve gauge sawed off I got my headlights turned off I'm 'bout to bust some shots off I'm 'bout to dust some gats off...... [Chorus: Ice-T] I'ma Cop killer, better you than me Cop killer, fuck police brutality! Cop killer, I know your family's grieving, fuck them Cop killer, but tonight we get even [Verse 2: Ice-T] Ha ha, I got my brain on hype Tonight will be your night I got this long-Assed-Knife And your neck looks just right My adrenaline's pumpin' I got my stereo bumpin' I'm 'bout to kill me somethin' A pig stopped me for nothin'...... [Chorus: Ice-T] Cop killer, better you than me Cop killer, fuck police brutality Cop killer, I know your mama's grievin' so fuck her Cop killer, but tonight we get even [Break:] Yeah, die, die, die pig, die (*Gun Shot*) Die, die, die pig, die (*Gun Shot*) Fuck the police, fuck the police, fuck the police Fuck the police, fuck the police, fuck the police Fuck the police yeah...... [Chorus: Ice-T] Cop killer, better you than me I'ma Cop killer, fuck police brutality! Cop killer, I know your family's grievin' fuck them Cop killer, but tonight we get even Ha ha ha, yeah [Hook:] Fuck the police, Fuck the police, Fuck the police Fuck the police, Fuck the police, Fuck the police Fuck the police, Fuck the police, break it down Fuck the police, yeah Fuck the police, for Darryl Gates Fuck the police, for Rodney King Fuck the police, for my dead homies Fuck the police, for your freedom Fuck the police, don't be a pussy Fuck the police, have some motherfuckin' courage Fuck the police, sing along..... Cop killer, cop killer, cop killer Cop killer, cop killer What you're gonna be when you grown up? Cop killer, good choice, cop killer I'ma motherfuckin' cop killer [Chorus: Ice-T] Cop killer, better you than me Cop killer, fuck police brutality Cop killer, I know your mama's grievin' (fuck her) Cop killer, but tonight we get even |
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3:43 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Yo check this out
A lot of people get mad cause I use the word nigga You know what I'm saying they don't like the fact that I use the word nigga They say you a black man I tell em I'm a nigga they don't understand that So I'm a say what I wanna say I call myself what I wanna call myself You know what I'm saying So they can stay off my dick Damn right I'm a nigga And I don't care what you are Cause I'm a Capital N-I double-G-E-R Black people might get mad Cause they don't see That they're looked upon As a nigga just like me I'm a nigga, not a Coloured man Or a Black, or a Negro Or Afro American, I'm all that Yes I was born in America true Does South Central Look like America to you? I'm a nigga, a straight up nigga From a hard school Whatever you are I don't care, that is you fool I'm loud and proud Well endowed with the big beef Out on the corner I hang out like a horse thief So you can call me dumb or crazy Ignorant, stupid, inferior or lazy Silly or foolish But I'm badder and bigger And most of all I'm a straight up nigga That's right I'm a nigga My man lord finesse is my motherfucking nigga You know evil e's my nigga islam's my nigga That's right they're my niggas I'm a nigga in America And that much I flaunt Cause when I see what I like Yo I take what I want I'm not the only one That's why I'm not bitter Cause everybody is a nigga to a nigga! America was stole from he Indians Show and prove, what was that? A straight up nigga move A low down shame Yo it's straight insane Yet they complain When a nigga snatch Their gold chains What is nigga suppose to do? Wait around for a handout From a nigga like you? That's why a low down nigga gets hyped But I'm not a nigga of that type I'm a steak and lobster eatin Billionaire meetin Cash money makin, movin shakin Corporate jet glidin Limousine ridin Writin' hits, filthy rich Straight up nigga! That's right I'm a nigga Now I'm a write this song Though the radio won't play it But I got freedom of speech So I'm a say it She wanna be lez he wanna be gay But that's your business I'm straight So nigga have it your way Those who hate me I got sumthin for ya A nigga with cash a nigga with a lawyer Bot a watermelon eating @#%$ down south But a nigga that 'll smack the taste from your mouth A contemplating thinking best champagne drinkin Ten inch givin extra large livin Mercedes benz drivin strivin to survivin All the way livin and kickin hi fivin Strokin rap and happenin deal doing Fly in from cali to chill with the crewin Rhymin groovin fly girlie grabbin Horny gun shootin long hair havin Nigga Straight up nigga Nigga Straight up nigga Nigga Nigga that's right fool look at me Just the kinda nigga you'd like to hang from a tree But all you KKK type grave diggers Ease back fool cause I'm a trigger nigga I work real hard for my livin But I don't sell or brake bullshit thanksgivin Like some fool and eat turkey That's the day your forefathers jerked me Shipped us all over here in locks and chains Split us up twistin up a nigga's brain Now you keep me in constant sweat But I'm a nigga that you'll never forget A black bad iron clad always mad Fly nigga takin off from a helipad Rolex divin buck wilin cap pilin Sportin link chinks and medallions Incollectible hi tek cash and seven digit checks And still breakin necks The ultimate male supreme white woman's dream Big dick straight up nigga |
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6:15 |
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
Rampage on stage,my crews in a rage
Searched my posse,found the Uzi but missed the 12 gauge Maniac,I'm a rhyme brainiac,livin' on the edge of a razor Remember that Cold rollin' thick as a shake,I'm rockin' hard as a quake I can't live on bread and water or lobster and steak My mino's a riot gun,there ain't none bigger About to unload the ammo,"E" squeeze the trigger They say I'm violent,they should watch their T.V. They say I'm brutal,they should check their P.D. You made me,now your kids rave me I rap about the life that the city streets gave me Murder,intrigue,somebody must bleed Miami Vice is small time,L.A's the big league From the rollin' 60's to the nickerson "G" Pueblos,grape street,this is what I see The jungle,the 30's,the V.N.G. Life in L.A. ain't no cup of ter Squeeze the trigger I've been dogged out by cops,shackled and socked Paid my dues to the streets,took my hard knocks Disrespected by snobs,damn near trampled by mobs Persecuted by squares workin' nine to five jobs Like a panther I prowl ,like a lion I growl Learn to see behind my back like the head of an owl I'm the voice of the youth,the prophet of truth What I speak is really though some May say ruthless tactics are takin' by me to awaken People to life but I feel no fakin' No jivin',no lyin',no frontin',no playin' Say exactly whats up,understand what I'm sayin' Ban me,try it,you might cause a riot What the radio won't play,the underground will supply it I'm a MC pirate that's loud not quiet Radical as they make'em,make a rule I'll defy it Critics may say I'm wise,some may call my words lies I've lived more in one day than they will in their lives But most do respect the words I inject Kick credit for realism and the truth I project Because I could bust rhymes for fun,or cut MC's like a knife But the topic I love is the drama of life So don't diss me don't dare,I feel you should care You may think I'm soft but you're just unaware Of the wrath of the Ice enraged prepare For a true nighmare Squeeze the trigger Cops hate kids,kids hate cops,cops kill kid's with warnin' shouts What is crime and what in not?what is justice?I think I forgot We buy weapons to keep us strong Reagan sends guns where they don't belong The controversy is thick and the drag is strong But no matter the lies we all know who's wrong Homeless sleep on the city streets Waitin' to die with nothin' to eat While rich politicians soak their feet In the pools at their ten million buck retreats People hate people for color of face No one had a choice in the race we were placed A brother in queens was beaten and chased Murdered cold in the streets, a goodamn disgrace Just because of his race,his life went to waste And no one went to jail when the court heard the case Justice or corruption?it's all interlaced How can you swallow this?I can't stand the taste Squeeze the trigger I get paid for illin',cold makin' a killin' My pockets keep fillin',I got dollars to the ceilin' Got a safe in my floor,car got bullet proof doors Every time I rock the mic I leave you wishin' for more Because my raps ain't bull,got cold stupid pull You wanna eat my rhymes like candy,till your mind's over full But most MC's today ain't got nothin' to say "A" to the mother fuckin' "K" |
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4:42 |
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from Ice-T - Power (2001)
It was a Saturday night on the streets of Cali
Threw on my dope silk suit, brushed off my suede Bally's Threw on enough gold for any girl's pleasure Left a pound and a half of that shit still in the dresser I slapped a clip in my nine, threw a clip in my sock Hit three grand up off the dresser, it was ten on the dot Now my beeper started beepin, I threw that shit in the sink I didn't need it no more, I had more money than Prince See, I was quittin the game and tonight was my fling You see, on the streets they're players but only one king Now that's the title I held but the game is real fast You gotta get in and get out if you expectin to last Now my homeboy Evil was downstairs chillin in his brand new Benz I had many adversaries but very few close friends We broke to the set, E parked the car on the grass High-signin was his trademark and he did it with class Hit the door like two titans, the whole jam stopped to stare And as we walked through the crowd they threw bills in the air I spied my man Jazz maxin out with two stone cold freaks "Yo, what's up Ice, you rich now, man, you too good to speak?" Now Jazz was a player from the east coast, the Bronx He was known to be hard on the women and a brother he'd stomp Smack a bitch in a minute, some say just for fun And he was known for his chrome-plated pearl-handled gun "Yo Ice, you my brother and I love you and all But what's up with that six g's you owe me, man ...'member when your boys took that fall? And I posted the bail cause yo ass was locked up" Evil gave Jazz ten g's and Jazz shut the fuck up Just then I saw Donald-D hit the front door More gold than a Aztec, black leather he wore Hoes grabbed for they niggaz when D hit the set Cause what Donald-D wanted is what Donald-D'd get Donald's eyes hit mine and a smile crossed his face Then a light hit his ring and blinded the whole goddamn place "Yo Ice, you the coolest and Evil, you mean But I got the fliest new shit rollin off gasoline" Everyone in the party moved quickly outside To see Donald-D's ultimate Superfly ride It was black, it was low, cost twice that of my Porsche A Testarossa Ferrari - convertable of course It purred like a jet, "Yo man, I bought it with cash" It had 'Donald-D' written in gold on the dash Then out of nowhere came a shot across the street I felt pain in my chest and my knees got weak There was blood on my hands and I fell to the ground And all I could hear was, "Yo, Ice is down!" Somebody had shot me that night that I quit The night that I ended all this hustlin playin shit It's ironic ain't it, the night I retired Would be the same night that my whole life expired |
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4:42 |
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from Ice-T - Rhino Hi-Five: Ice-T (2006)
It was a Saturday night on the streets of Cali
Threw on my dope silk suit, brushed off my suede Bally's Threw on enough gold for any girl's pleasure Left a pound and a half of that shit still in the dresser I slapped a clip in my nine, threw a clip in my sock Hit three grand up off the dresser, it was ten on the dot Now my beeper started beepin, I threw that shit in the sink I didn't need it no more, I had more money than Prince See, I was quittin the game and tonight was my fling You see, on the streets they're players but only one king Now that's the title I held but the game is real fast You gotta get in and get out if you expectin to last Now my homeboy Evil was downstairs chillin in his brand new Benz I had many adversaries but very few close friends We broke to the set, E parked the car on the grass High-signin was his trademark and he did it with class Hit the door like two titans, the whole jam stopped to stare And as we walked through the crowd they threw bills in the air I spied my man Jazz maxin out with two stone cold freaks "Yo, what's up Ice, you rich now, man, you too good to speak?" Now Jazz was a player from the east coast, the Bronx He was known to be hard on the women and a brother he'd stomp Smack a bitch in a minute, some say just for fun And he was known for his chrome-plated pearl-handled gun "Yo Ice, you my brother and I love you and all But what's up with that six g's you owe me, man 'member when your boys took that fall? And I posted the bail cause yo ass was locked up" Evil gave Jazz ten g's and Jazz shut the fuck up Just then I saw Donald-D hit the front door More gold than a Aztec, black leather he wore Hoes grabbed for they niggaz when D hit the set Cause what Donald |
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3:05 |
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from Rhino Hi-Five: Rap [Vol 1] (2006)
My lifestyles crazy,I'm luxury lazy So much gold that jewelry don't phase me Coroless phone,eight or nine homes Girlies on my Jammie with Ice-T Jones Bank account boomin',fast lane zoomin' Known around the world for my high post groomin' Mac like a preacher,love like a teacher Got a girl who lives in Paris When I want her I beep her Too many clothes,gotta rag top rolls 1.000 Watt system and my speakers are bose I kick it like a champ,I throught you knew it But pimpin' ain't easy But somebody gotta do it My thumbs are tired just from countin' cash No more room in my diamond stash Filin' my nails is such a tirin' task Gold knobs on my benzo dash Five freaks just to comb my hair Monograms on my underwear Bodyguards around so please don't dare You're takin' a chance if you just stop and stare Livin' my life is just so hard to do Makin' deals a million one or two Buyin' new cars for my entire crew Matching Ferraris,E's black,mine's blue Can't swin a lap in my pool because it's just too long Could never go broke because my banks too strong No matter what I do I simply can't go wrong And I'll make money,I don't need this damn song But somebody's gotta do it When I walk in a joint,punks always look at me hard Because I wear enough gold to tie a dog in a yard Cold maxin' in my mansion so big it's silly Got a butler named Humphry and a maid named Milly Mink sheets on my bed,that's what I said Gourmet chefs in my kitchem so that I can get fed So tired of sailin' on my boat I might just Helicopter To my jet and catch a midnight flight So many girls in my book,it weighs a tom Gotta leave the damn country just to have some fun Private suite at the track to watch the ponies run And there ain't nothin' in the word That me an "E" ain't done But somedody gotta do it |
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3:31 |
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
My lifestyles crazy,I'm luxury lazy
So much gold that jewelry don't phase me Coroless phone,eight or nine homes Girlies on my Jammie with Ice-T Jones Bank account boomin',fast lane zoomin' Known around the world for my high post groomin' Mac like a preacher,love like a teacher Got a girl who lives in Paris When I want her I beep her Too many clothes,gotta rag top rolls 1.000 Watt system and my speakers are bose I kick it like a champ,I throught you knew it But pimpin' ain't easy But somebody gotta do it My thumbs are tired just from countin' cash No more room in my diamond stash Filin' my nails is such a tirin' task Gold knobs on my benzo dash Five freaks just to comb my hair Monograms on my underwear Bodyguards around so please don't dare You're takin' a chance if you just stop and stare Livin' my life is just so hard to do Makin' deals a million one or two Buyin' new cars for my entire crew Matching Ferraris,E's black,mine's blue Can't swin a lap in my pool because it's just too long Could never go broke because my banks too strong No matter what I do I simply can't go wrong And I'll make money,I don't need this damn song But somebody's gotta do it When I walk in a joint,punks always look at me hard Because I wear enough gold to tie a dog in a yard Cold maxin' in my mansion so big it's silly Got a butler named Humphry and a maid named Milly Mink sheets on my bed,that's what I said Gourmet chefs in my kitchem so that I can get fed So tired of sailin' on my boat I might just Helicopter To my jet and catch a midnight flight So many girls in my book,it weighs a tom Gotta leave the damn country just to have some fun Private suite at the track to watch the ponies run And there ain't nothin' in the word That me an "E" ain't done But somedody gotta do it |
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3:05 |
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
Squeeze the trigger
Rampage on stage,my crews in a rage Searched my posse,found the Uzi but missed the 12 gauge Maniac,I'm a rhyme brainiac,livin' on the edge of a razor Remember that Cold rollin' thick as a shake,I'm rockin' hard as a quake I can't live on bread and water or lobster and steak My mino's a riot gun,there ain't none bigger About to unload the ammo, |
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
Yo Moose, stop the car right here.
Alright, give it here, give it here. No man let me do it, cool ice. Stay in the car man, stay in the car. Stay in the car. Uh, hi officers, um, we had a flat tire back there. Do you think you guys could help us out? "Naw, that's not my job. My job's not to help your fuckin' ass out." I mean, um, you know I don't have any other way to get home. "That's not my job, asshole." Well uh, could you tell me what your job is? "Right now my job is eatin' these doughnuts, or maybe... hey, wait a minute. Aren't you--" Yup |
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2:36 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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2:36 |
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from Ice-T - Rhino Hi-Five: Ice-T (2006)
We interrupt this program with a special bulletin:
America is now under marshall law. All constitutional rights have been suspended. Stay in your homes. Do not attempt to contact love ones, insurance agent or attorney. Shut up. Do not attempt to think or depression may accure. Stay in your homes. Curfew is at 7 PM sharp after work. Anyone gaught outside of gates of their suveillance sectors after curfew will be shot. Remain calm, do not panic. Your neighborhood watchofficer will be by to collect urine examples in the morning. Anyone gaught intefering with the collection of urine examples will be shot. Stay in your homes, remain calm. The number one enemy of progress is question. National security is more important than individual will. All port broadcasts will proceed as normal. No more than two people may gather anywhere without promission. Use only the drugs described by your boss or supervisor. Shut up, be happy. Obey all orders without question. The comformental mandor is now mandatory. Be happy. At last everything is done for you. |
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4:12 |
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from Body Count - Born Dead (1994)
Chorus:
You give me for honor (graves) Where your soldeirs lay (graves) They're so far away (graves) The home of the brave (graves) I won't die in your bullshit wars no more I won't fight to my death for you I won't watch my poor mama cry no more Muthafuck your red, white and blue Chorus Thousands of men go to war to fight for Politics which they don't understand Murder people who they never met When they make it home they're Considered a vet Fire drops from the sky as the young boys die Far from home, all alone, it's a sin All you get in return in a shit shallow grave Cause in war there's no way you can win Mia, yeah right, you think they give a fuck, You're just pawns in the game off the board Brainwashed to the point where you kill at The drop of a dime But it's not called a crime Vietnam, persian gulf, did we win ? Did we lose ? Thousands die, human beings you choose Once in you're owned by the man, Uncle sam is his name, you're his slave, Shallow graves Chorus You give me for honor |
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2:59 |
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
Sex I the morning,sex at night,sex in the afternoon's alright
Ain't a man on earth,that can stay alive Without a .....sex drive Sex (x4) I was in a contest to rock the world First prize was a virgin young girl For four days I was up on the mic All sucker MC's were on the bite Bittin' my rhymes,stealin' my style I rocked so hard,it wasn't true I won the virgin girl,and her MAMA too Sex (x4) When I'm upon the microphone All the fly young ladies want a take me home When the party's over,take me to their house Throw me in the bed,know what we're talkin' about? Then they say,"Ice-T you are the best I love your eyes Your things,your chest You put all my lovers to shame I can't remember my boyfriends name You made me feel all hot and wet The way you move I can't forget I came,I came,I came again it felt so good I told my friends You can have my cars,my jewels,my wealth I love you more than I love myself After tonight fulfilled I'll be No hundred men could match ICE-T Sex (x4) Then she turn out the lights,throw back the sheets And then our two hot bodies meet And all at once she felt the thrill The caress of the best,the Ice-T chill Start with her tongue upon the back of my leg She didn't stop till I hollered screamed and begged Then she rolled me over,took me to the stage Like in the nasty book where you tore out the page Sex (x4) I put it in their blouse In their brain their little panties that their boyfriend saw I put it in their mini skirt and up their thigh Deep,deep girls,I wanna make you cry I move it in and out,know what I'm talkin' about Then around your neck until you show respect Then on your cheek until I reach my peak Then in your mouth girl,no joke,I'll take it out Don't want to see you choke I'll run it down your back,might cause a heart attack I'll put it in your butt until I get enough And then I'll take it out and put it in my pants 'Cause I fuck with the beat,the only way to dance Sex (x4) |
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3:53 |
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
Sex I the morning,sex at night,sex in the afternoon's alright
Ain't a man on earth,that can stay alive Without a .....sex drive Sex (x4) I was in a contest to rock the world First prize was a virgin young girl For four days I was up on the mic All sucker MC's were on the bite Bittin' my rhymes,stealin' my style I rocked so hard,it wasn't true I won the virgin girl,and her MAMA too Sex (x4) When I'm upon the microphone All the fly young ladies want a take me home When the party's over,take me to their house Throw me in the bed,know what we're talkin' about? Then they say,"Ice-T you are the best I love your eyes Your things,your chest You put all my lovers to shame I can't remember my boyfriends name You made me feel all hot and wet The way you move I can't forget I came,I came,I came again it felt so good I told my friends You can have my cars,my jewels,my wealth I love you more than I love myself After tonight fulfilled I'll be No hundred men could match ICE-T Sex (x4) Then she turn out the lights,throw back the sheets And then our two hot bodies meet And all at once she felt the thrill The caress of the best,the Ice-T chill Start with her tongue upon the back of my leg She didn't stop till I hollered screamed and begged Then she rolled me over,took me to the stage Like in the nasty book where you tore out the page Sex (x4) I put it in their blouse In their brain their little panties that their boyfriend saw I put it in their mini skirt and up their thigh Deep,deep girls,I wanna make you cry I move it in and out,know what I'm talkin' about Then around your neck until you show respect Then on your cheek until I reach my peak Then in your mouth girl,no joke,I'll take it out Don't want to see you choke I'll run it down your back,might cause a heart attack I'll put it in your butt until I get enough And then I'll take it out and put it in my pants 'Cause I fuck with the beat,the only way to dance Sex (x4) |
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4:23 |
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from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997)
I love you, and will always love you.
When I'm without you I feel so alone. When I was young I didn't know you existed, but introduced to you still as a child. Mom and dad used to fight about you each night, to obtain you wasn't easy for certain types. As I grew too many friends died over you, I didn't have you so my sex life was none. I needed you and street life was the answer, I found you with the use of a gun! Money - can kill men. Money - controls sin. Money - can move all. Money - is true power. Root of all evil. As I grew my love for you became deeper, addicted to you, I was sprung on your juice. The more of you I possessed, the more power anything could be obtained with your use. But the quest for you spelled pain for my victims, cause for you I'd take a life without thought. Anything in my way would be chopped down, cause for me happiness would be bought! CHORUS People lie and say you really don't matter, Singers front and say they really don't care. If they don't want you, yo well send you to me then, cause you and I are in an endless affair. CHORUS |
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| from Da Kat - Still Subbin` (2011) | |||||
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4:34 |
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| from All American Rap (2006) | |||||
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5:03 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
(intro)
Yeah,Syndicate's in the house Yeah,Geto Boys in the house Yeah,Donald D's in the house Yeah,Body count's in the house Yeah,Zulu Nation's in the house Yeah,Ice-T's in the house,yeah (verse one) You go on and on and you don't stop Got sticky sneakers from the blood of a shot cop Belt and a club,I'm leaving tracks on the white rug Punk tried to rif and he met double-live slugs I ain't the nigger to step to I'm catching bodies and the next one could be you Quick on the trigger,yo,I'm a gravedigger Drop off a a body and deep six'em in the river A nice talking psychopath All cops hunt the black male in a skimask But I'm too damn clever Will they ever catch me,never Because I operate in and out of state Move at a quick rate And never hesitate to take a chump sucker down And my H-K it holds 80 rounds So when you move be careful and don't play And watch for the ricochet Suicide,it's a suicide,yeah (x8) (verse two) So shut up motherfuckers as I laid the ink When I'm in Detroit,niggers fight in mink When I'm in Chicago,motherfuckers get buck wild When I'm up in Oakland Niggers rolling in huge piles In Atlanta,niggers crash you doors When I'm in Philly,it's a sold out tour In L.A.,I max out real hard When I'm in New York,I bill with the Gods So don't try to deny me my proper juice E.cuts the records and the yellow nigger gets loose No static,just much respect Truck my Rolex when I cruise the projects A fly brother that is hard to figure I punch hos and I smack up niggers Because I'm a pimp and a player Sometimes I bum hip-hop,the other times slayer You don't like it Well stay out of my fucking way Duck for the gunshot and watch to the ricochet Suicide,it's a suicide,yeah (x3) C'mon yeah (x7) (verse three) Yo D.,what's up?,suckers is popping lip Grab the H-K and the dum-dum clip and spread out I'm putting punk's heads out Doors is shut,there's no chance to get out I got the motherfucking side with bi clocks Raise the auto-loader and let off the buckshot (Sounds of gunfire) That's how I like to do work (Gunfire again) Got guts on my T-shirt Motherfuckers tried to play the ice Because I rhyme smooth And on T.V. act nice Saw,that's what you shouldn't have said Now I'm so mad I'm busting veins in my forehead You want to get off,come on let's rock But have your safety off,and your shit cocked Because when I come to get that ass I'll leave your whole block filled with hot brass So punk,don't make me pop my trunk Show you my amps and my Mossberg pump Because when I pull it most niggers run Fool niggers stay and get hit by the ricochet Suicide,it's a suicide,yeah (x8) (verse four) Niggers want to know about me and the...... We squashed that shit with me and him about a year ago But there's a new rule starting tonight Dis'me on a record,see me bite Because in a daze,you saw a battle of mics (sounds of gunfire) I'm using gages and flashlights Ease back and don't give me no feedback Yo,"Ice cool out",yo,fuck that I'm hot,I'm putting niggers in cots Some get knocked out,some just get shot Where did I get all the juice I used Gotta posse full of brothers with nothing to lose Some just got out,some will never Some beat the cases 'cause their lawyer was clever I love'em all and they know that's true So they won't blink while they doing a punk like you Freeze motherfucker Get on your knees,hands behind you back Bow your heads,if you will please I'll swing my axe,watch the bodies fall Watch your head roll off like volleyball So all you motherfuckers down with the fly guy Look me in the face,like you're strong when you walk by And all you punk niggers talking shit Step to the side,bow your head like a bitch I don't play,you'll get hit by the ricochet You'll get hit by the ricochet You'll get hit by the ricochet Yeah |
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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| from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996) | |||||
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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from Ice-T - Power (2001)
People,it's time for the Ice crush
So listen to my words I bring much Sense,as I commence,my lirycs intense Get telephoto,break out your big lens Look,check out the sales charts My record's kickin',I'm breakin' P.D.'s hearts They banned me from their shows Because they said I'm too hard But no sell-out,I guess I'm just barred I ain't changin' mine for no body They bleeped words from Doug's LA-DE-DA-DE I can't get a bleep?What's the deal? Maybe my words are just too real It's not profanity,it's just the man and me He doesn't want you to see what I see Doesn't want you to be what you can be Word,censorship of reality Radio suckers never play me(x3)(sampler of PE "rebel without a pause") Suckers don't,but some do The real troopers bring the ICE to you And close friends to me,yea,PUBLIC ENEMY These stations have high intellect They don't pretend to be,too bourgeois to rock a jam raw Understand what I'm sayin',they're down by law They play the jams that are right,sometimes not polite They realize you gotta get some people uptight Speak the word,your voice will definitely be heard Lie to yourself,you're destined to be to the curb Some stations don't care,they'll never put on the air Nothin' but commercial junk,their brain power's impaired They don't listen or try to hear what I write Maybe just think once,or try some school at night They're makin' radio wack,people have to escape But even if I'm banned,I'll sell a million tapes Radio suckers never play me (x3) I made records for music,not for the money To some of you that might sound funny But I ain't broke,and I don't joke And my lirics are known to make ears smoke Clear as a gun scope,I speak the pure dope Can the radio handle the truth?...Nope Uncut,no edits,no censors You can get a plastic rapper from any ol'dispenser A penny a yard,to make a record ain't hard But to make it mean something,that's a job But then we do it,they refuse it So I tell them duck suckers to cold go screw it We shouldn't sell out,we should just yell out And get them wack motherfuckers the hell out Radio suckers never play me (x4) Cruisin' down the street what do I see? Crash Task Force,L.A.P.D. Gangs illin',wildin' and killin' Hustlers on a roll,like they got a million Girls on the strap and you know that You know the guys will stop wildin' if you stop that crap But you can't,you want money so bad You'll jock anything with the Gucci tag You gotta have it,so the men go get it Robbin' and stealin',soon to regret it Livin' in a jail cell,feelin' like a dumbbell While you jump the next jock,well That's reality,that's what I see Nobody says that you have to agree Censorship that ain't the way to be I thought you said this country was free? Radio suckers never play me (x2) Tone it down,...Is what they say to me The FCC will not allow profanity Your subject matter's too hard,make a love song You better get real,come on I ain't no lover,I'm a fighter Hard core radical rap rhyme writer Pushin' the botton,E does the cuttin' Everything I say amounts to something More than a single rap,I'm too deep for that I lay my lirics with logic,press the wax Play it on your tape deck,feel the effect If you can't take the heat,eject But I know you can,'cause you're an ICE-T fan No sell-outs here,my man Radio....(fade out) |
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4:13 |
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4:36 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 fuck 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 Fuck John Wayne I don't hate whites I just got a death wish for muthafuckas that ain't right You got black skin Still you gotta show and prove, friend Back to the facts What about Australia? A fuckin 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) (Upen 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 P.D. 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 (8X) 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 ??? 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 Fuck the police We already know they ain't about no fuckin peace You wanna know what I think's in store? Justice or a race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Korean people live down in the hood A little mis-fuckin-understood Orientals were slaves too Word to this fuckin red white and blue People from Iran ain't never did shit to us So why the distrust? The system wanna keep us at each other's throats While we're payin the tax notes Cause bein black ain't no fuckin minority It's the fuckin 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) (Upen your eyes Get wise) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Who wants a race war? ( *quotes repeated until end* ) We're gonna lose |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 fuck 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 Fuck John Wayne I don't hate whites I just got a death wish for muthafuckas that ain't right You got black skin Still you gotta show and prove, friend Back to the facts What about Australia? A fuckin 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) (Upen 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 P.D. 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 (8X) 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 ??? 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 Fuck the police We already know they ain't about no fuckin peace You wanna know what I think's in store? Justice or a race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Korean people live down in the hood A little mis-fuckin-understood Orientals were slaves too Word to this fuckin red white and blue People from Iran ain't never did shit to us So why the distrust? The system wanna keep us at each other's throats While we're payin the tax notes Cause bein black ain't no fuckin minority It's the fuckin 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) (Upen your eyes Get wise) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Race war (Get yourself together) (Upen your eyes Get wise) (Put your brain in gear) Who wants a race war? ( *quotes repeated until end* ) We're gonna lose |
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0:32 |
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| from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003) | |||||
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0:33 |
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| from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003) | |||||
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Just checkin' my microphone once
As I check your audio Increase the bass response Hope n the speakers blow I got no time to sit and flip And pop bullshit Turn up your stereo hops Insert the rhyme clip Roll your windows up Make sure it7s air tight E.Q. the track exact So shit sounds right I rhyme of death And darkness and danger Your crib or car Becomes a torture chamber I write my rhymes with violence What you expect? Sounds of pain The snap of a broken neck All alone in darkness I sit each night Write my rhymes With blood upon a butcher knife You say the Ice is ill, and ill I am They try to ban my shit And I don't give a damn Roll up, your eye will get swoll up Suckers who flexed Yo, their deaths got tolled up Cause I'm not the nigga to toy with Boy with the big mouth Ya got time to riff? There's time to take you out Put a couple caps in your ass Cut your head off Send it to your mom with flowers Cause I'm so soft Lay on your wack crew Smoke the whole bunch Bury 'em in my bck yard And then I'll eat lunch Cause I don't give a fuck about you Or him or her Whenever I'm in the house A death just might occur Is this real or fiction You'll never know CHORUS While you're locked to the Pulse of the rhyme flow! Once I lock you up, you can't get loose You put your head inside And I placed the noose The mic drips juice slow From its steel mesh My words feel like hooks Underneath your flesh Makin' you twist and turn Scorch and burn, when will you learn? The '90s are my turn To pitch a vocal fit, like the ultimate Gangster rhyme, yo, I invented the shit! Watch me dod it, as I do it And I do it right Grab the gauge Duct tape on the flashlight Doin' the black ski mask And come to your house Cut off your power And do you with the lights out! Is this real or fiction? You'll never know CHORUS A pool of blood and floating body parts Would make me grin A close view of a razor When it's breaking skin If you were burnin' I'd use gasoline to put you out Cause I walk alone And choose the dark route Nightmares gotta be loved by some And I'm the one Ya wanna come, bring your shotgun You ever see your partner die? No? Well I have! You ever see your father die? No? Well I have! You ever see your mother die? No? Well I have! So shut the fuck up, punk And clear the rhyme path! What would make meel calm and nice Is a slow slice Through your jugular and windpipe Throw me in jail I won't even try to make bail Put me in the gas chamber And watch me inhale! Is this true or false? Well you'll never know CHORUS Jason, Tales from the Crypt And the Dark Side Another fly murder, another suicide Did these flicks Have an influence on my brain? I really doubt that shit I think that I was born insane When I was young I had a lust for knives and guns Use a magnifying glass To fry an ant with the sun And on and on My lust for death got bigger At fifteen I was placed behind a trigger Although I'm dirty Not the one to be swept up step up, I'd love to open your chest up I've got no concept of life or death All I want is your last breath Give me a motherfuckin' break I should behave Give me a motherfuckin' shovel I'll dig graves! I break ill in extra large portions where's your parents I'll make you an orphan So when you're talkin' crazy You better think of me The I, to the C, to the E, to the fuckin' T! There'll be no tears No screams or cries, just a laser beam Between your fuckin' eyes You feel strange well now you know CHORUS |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Watch me flip and rip
On the freedom tip Open your mind See the point of the ice pick I stand tall While my brothers Still choose to crawl Black power, it7s in effect yall But you don't understand You're still a slave to the man Prepare for revolution Some sucker say we're free I gotta disagree Half my posse's in the penitentiary So I'm a drop and kick the science With defiance Because I have no alliance With suckas who choose Not to act Black When they are Black Get out my face with that You better ease back Cause Mandela did 27 hard ones Not in a windowed room But in a barred one While his wife had tears in her eyes The man is a hero He needs a Nobel Prize But that will never happen So I'm gonna keep rappin' Freein' my brothers' minds From their entrapment To silence the Ice, they'll probably Put a bullet in me But I'm prepared to die And Mandela's free! |
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from Ice-T - Power (2001)
I'm livin' large as possible,posse unstoppable
Style topical,vividly optical Listen,you'll see'em sometimes I'll be'em Cops,critics and punks,necer ever wanta see me in POWER Well,that's too bad,Apocalypse Now I'm back and I'm mad We're comin',you're runnin' cold and cunning Ice T on the mic,TopGunning After your neck,checkin' respect,makin' you sweat Rhyme Syndicate boy in effect The rap motivator,teacher,talker,night rhyme stalker Words thrillin',so real they're chillin',the hit author Gettin' louder than a shot gun,you don't want none RHYME PAYS was the name of the album But that was number one,this is the number two The posse grew,we're gonna break through Power Somebody line up the suckers who refuse to recognize the truth Tie up the punks who refuse to understand the youth My posse's growin' and it's gettin' larger every day Detroit,Chi-Town,Pittsburgh,Houston,L.A. Come on,come on,come on,toys,let's play Circle the calendar,perpetrator doomsday ICE T fool man of my own full grown I cause havoc when I speak upon the microphone I'm outspoken,no jokin',get in my face your jaw will get broken Layin' it,sayin' it,then you're playing it Lyrics so heavy that you might try weighin' it Hated by many but I hate'em back Loved by troopers who know where it's at You might like me,might think I'm wack But don't step to me 'cause the boy stays strapped I'm taking no shorts,hatin' the courts,hatin' the judges Punk DA's with their personal grudges I hate the clubs that think with their butts No hats,no jeans,no sneakers,no what? No beepers,no gold? Yo kiss my ass We'll wait and see who gets the last laugh We'll have the power Power (x3) Power it starts with P like pussy She knows she's got it,she doesn't worry,does she? Spendin' your cash,leavin' you in the trash While your little head's thinkin',they're gone in a dash They got it,know it,that's why they show it The power of sex,if man could overthrow it He'd be king in a day,no way.We get rich,hard,give it away We're weak and as we speak,the girls are hawkin' Sizin' me up straight out as I'm talkin' But you gotta have control if you want the gold I don't wanta be alone like Stallone So I keep my mind thinkin' 'bout the green And stop dwellin' on the in-between I got the power Power I'm on a mission mackin' hard as a hammer Take my picture,I might take your camera My posse might move,and they move fast A fool's move could be a punk's last Ain't no criminal although I used to be Ain't no new jack rappin' ain't new to me I been makin' records on wax since 1982 Now it's 1988 finally I'm coming through That adds up to six years of makin' ok jams,but now I'm mad Here comes the body slam Turnin' out concerts,house'n the industry Lovin' all the fly girls screamin' for ICE T Rollin' with the Syndicate my unstoppable battalion 38 Solid gold my medalion Gainin' velocity,momentum and energy ICE Capital T I got the power Power So you say that I'm a fake think,you really must be a fool I been to jail more times than you have probably been in school Shot at,shot back,hit,and seen my buddies killed That's the foundation upon the raps of ICE-T are built I say what I think,the system does stink Money you walk,you short,you're writin' from the klink Come on,what's up,you know the laws are full of bull Prey on the lame,release those with pull Power!I know you wanta try it Well check out money can buy it Control and mold the world to do your wishin' The knowledge of power is mine,so just listen Money controls the world and that's it And once you got it,then you can talk shit Power You have the power Power You have the power I got the power(fade out) |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
(feat. DJ Evil E The Great)
[Intro: Ice-T Talking] Yo, shut up this is Ice motherfuckin' 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 motherfuckin' nigga Evil-E So right about now I'm give you the motherfuckin' microphone I'ma get behind the wheels, and we gonna do this Yo Evil, tell where the fuck 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 fuckin' 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 fuck 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 fuck 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 motherfuckin' shit out [Verse 2: Evil-E] Standin' with no quitter a fuckin' baby sitter Quick to get with her and have bitches that's bitter "yeah" I'm all that, fuck 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:] motherfuckin' 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 fuckin' nigga, but check this shit out [Verse 3: Evil-E] Evil-E the nigga that always gives a fuck About gettin' sucked, clockin' crazy bucks Fuck 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 motherfucker [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 motherfucker, 1993's style Home Invasion Dedicating this shit to all the DJ's in all the motherfuckin' 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 motherfucker [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 motherfuckin' 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 fuck outta here |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
(feat. DJ Evil E The Great)
[Intro: Ice-T Talking] Yo, shut up this is Ice motherfuckin' 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 motherfuckin' nigga Evil-E So right about now I'm give you the motherfuckin' microphone I'ma get behind the wheels, and we gonna do this Yo Evil, tell where the fuck 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 fuckin' 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 fuck 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 fuck 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 motherfuckin' shit out [Verse 2: Evil-E] Standin' with no quitter a fuckin' baby sitter Quick to get with her and have bitches that's bitter "yeah" I'm all that, fuck 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:] motherfuckin' 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 fuckin' nigga, but check this shit out [Verse 3: Evil-E] Evil-E the nigga that always gives a fuck About gettin' sucked, clockin' crazy bucks Fuck 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 motherfucker [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 motherfucker, 1993's style Home Invasion Dedicating this shit to all the DJ's in all the motherfuckin' 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 motherfucker [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 motherfuckin' 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 fuck outta here |
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
'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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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
'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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from Ice-T - Power (2001)
Emcee's no time out,it's time to rhyme out
You've dug your own grave,now you must climb out Dig out,crawl out,hide from the fallout 'Cause when I get mad I go all out ICE cooler than the coldest cube,dude And when I'm micin',boy,I'm know to get rude Criminal background,it's time to get down I use a silencer,don't like the loud sound Off my mic blast,you better run fast The last punk that popped junk passed Spit on his grave,laughed,jumped in my stretch Signed his bitch an autograph Syndicate boy,I don't fool out You're full grown,school's out You try to diss?..I think you better cool out 'Cause your butt is smoke,if we ever duel out This jam is directed,to all of those who expected For me to cold be rejected,but now I'm highly respected And now their ears are infected With dollar signs I've collected Jealous punks,I said it! Personal Take a personal Take it personal,punk,I'm talkin' to you And if they agree with you,then your crew too I never diss an emcee,I wish'em all good luck But if you diss me to my face,duck My style don't ramble,you shouldn't gamble With your grill,I got a fist like an anvil I write a record,lock it on the topic EVIL and IZ dog the track,then we drop it Record stores rock it,stock it,fans buy it People that never heard of ICE-T try it Then you try to diss? You got gall I got gold on my neck and gold on my wall Gold in my fingers,gold in my ear When this jam's spinnin',gold's what you hear Toy,this ain't Christimas,no time to play I ain't no child,punk,you'll get sprayed Illin' on a mega-villan You must want a pine box to go chill in Buried deep,creep,no one will weep 'Cause the next night with your bitch I'll sleep Personal Take it personal I ain't East Coast,West Coast,new style,or old style You wanna know about me? Check police files Get out my face or you might have a bruised one Brass knuckle prints? Yes,I used some I ain't here to boast,I don't do that When I talk it's straight dope,pure facts I rock hard but still called a new jack But talk shit,you're sure to get heard cracked I don't drink or smoke or do dumb drugs But my posse's still labeled street thugs L.A.P.D's got all my boy's mugs Can't use my phone for the damn bugs I live in privacy,don't like suckers hawking me News reporters,some think they can talk for me Lies,misquotes,changin' all my words around But if I catch'em on the street they'll get beat down They get money for hype-type publicity They don't think twice,about dissin' me But that's a mistake,with tha SYNDICATE you shoudn't mess I hope those punk reporters wear vests! Personal Take that personal Now the words I speak to some may sound radical But I'll explain,it's simply mathematical You diss,I diss,this is creates an equal You reply to my diss,this is called a sequel I reply to your diss,this is called a battle Not intelligent,not very adult So I don't battle,I just put heads out A straight line is always the direct route I write lyrics clear,to leave no doubt Don't even have to say who I'm speakin' about You know who you are,you just jealous 'Cause you hear my records are million sellers Try to say I'm wack,out on the streets While your whole crew is jockin' my beats See me on T.V. and in the papers See me at a jam,and catch vapors! Personal |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
Deuce,deuce revolver was my problem solver
Had a def girl,really didn't wanna involve her In the life of a gangster,use to rob bankster But now I'm locked up,I'm just a punk low rankster Jail cells know me too damn well Seems like I've built on earth my own personal hell No matter how high I climbed,somehow I always fell I guess a lot of players got this story to tell No matter how cold you roll you simply cannot win It's always fun in the beginning But pain in the end Pain (x4) Organized crimer,big trouble finder In and out of institutions ever since I was a minor But now I'm on the bricks,deep in the mix Crime smarts searching hard for some new street tricks I think I'll join a gang,sling a little cane Put a beeper on my belt and get myself a name Fresh sneakers,silk shirts,24/7 work Nine to five to survive,you gotta be a jerki I clock two grand a day,yet I was born to play Who me at micky dee's?It wouldn't work,no way I'm a big money haver but not the last laugher For me infamy makes me no autographer Custody haunts my dreams,nightmares of capture Paranoid of surveillance,phobia of cameras My banks bigger,but so are my fears Past records proved players live limited years But I'm unlike the rest,know to be the best Fast money,true wealth my eternal quest I hustle all night long,there ain't no gain in rest 12 gauge close range,bloods on my chest I looked into his face,I thought he was my friend My boy had me set up,this wound would never mend No matter who you trust,you simply cannot win It's always fun in the beginning But it's pain in the end Pain (x4) Gold rope wearer,neighborhood terror Can't hang around my mother 'cause she says I scare her Got a light sunburn from too much pool-side sittin' Coroless phone keeps me on 'cause there ain't no quittin' Mind's in a money mode,seems like it should explode Girlies on my jammie,got a female overload Young street messiah,professional liar 19 gotta Benz,21 I'll retire Crazy money it ain't funny,suckers lovin' my jock But there's some people at my door that didn't even knock Task force boomin',doggin' my crib out,can't shout F.B.I. got a gun in my mouth! Threw me on the floor,called my girl a whore Pulled ten G's out my mattress and was lookin' for more Cracked my safe with an axe,then illed out to the max When they seem my money kickin' it in twenty G stacks Booked me on ten counts,with bails of different amounts The charges stuck like glue,some that I couldn't pronounce They threw my ass the book,my life wa surely took And then they gave my girl Ten years for hangin' out with a crook She played the game herself,fast lane quick wealth No respect for the law or the city's health The sweat of hustlers greed is not reserved for men It's always fun in the beginning But it's pain in the end Pain (x5) |
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| from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987) | |||||
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
On Oprah today, we discuss male promiscuity.
Why men are constantly in the search for sex, and new sexual partners. |
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4:43 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Ten years ago
I used to listen to rappers flow Talkin' bout the way They rocked the mic at the disco I liked how that shit was goin' down With my own sound So I tried to write rhymes Somethin' like them, my boys said, "That ain't you Ice, That shit sounds like HIM." So I sat back, thought up a new track Didn'T fantasize, kicked the pure Facts. Motherfuckers got scared Cause they weas unprepaired who would tell it how it relly was? Who dared? A motherfucker from the West Coast L.A. South Central fool Where the Crips and the Bloods play When I wrote about parties It didn't fit Six in the Mornin' That was the real shit CHORUS O.G. Original Gangster When I wrote about parties Someone always died When I tried to write happy Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime Why play ya blind? A simple look and anyone with two cents would know I'm A hardcore player from the streets Rappin' bout hardcore topics Over hardcore drum beats a little different Than the average though Jet you thru the fast lane Drop ya on death row Cause anybody who's been there Knows that life ain't sho lovely On the blood-soaked fast track That invincible shit don't work Throw ya in a joint You'll be comin' out feet first So I blast the mic with my style Sometimes I'm ill The other times buck wild But the science is always there I'd be a true sucker If I acted like I didn'T care I rap for brothers just like myself Dazed by the game In a quest for extreme wealth But I kick it to you hard and real One wrong move, and your caps peeled I ain't no super hero I ain't no Marvel Comic But when it comes to game I'm atomic At droppin' it straight Point blank and untwisted No imagination needed, cause I lived it This ain't no fuckin' joke This shit is real to me I'm Ice-T O.G. Two weeks ago I was out at the disco Two brothers stepped up to me And said "Hey yo, Ice We don't think you're down What set ya claimin'?" E drew the Glock, yo my set's aimin'! Dumb motherfucker Try to roll on me, please! I'm protected by a thousand emcees and hoodlums and hustlers And bangers with Jeri curls we won't even count the girls Cause they got my back And I got theirs too Fight for the streets When I'm on Oprah or Donahue They try to sweat a nigga But they just didn'T figure What my wit's as quick as a hair trigger "He's not your everyday-type Prankster." I'm Ice-T, the original gangster So step to me If you think that you're ready to Got on your bullet proof? Well mine's goin' right thru This ain't no game to me It's hollow fame to me Without respect frome streets So I don't claim be The hardest motherfucker on earth Catch me slippin, I can even get worked But I don'T slip that often there's a coffin Waitin' for the brother Who comes off soft when The real fuckin' shit goes down Take a look around all them pussies can be found they talk a mean fight But fight like hoes I'm from South Central, fool Where everything goes Snatch you out your car so fast You'll get whiplash Numbers on your roof top For when the copters pass Gang bangers Don't carry no switch blades Every kid's got a Tec 9 or a Hand grenade Thirty-seven killed Last week in a crack war Hostges tied up And shot in a liquor store Nobody gives a fuck "The children have to go to school." Well, moms, good luck Cause the shit's fucked up bad I use my pad and pen And my lyrics break out mad I try to write about fun andthe goodtimes But the pen yanks away and explodes And destroys the rhyme Maybe it's just cause of where I'm from L.A. that was a shot gun! CHORUS |
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4:43 |
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from Ice-T - Rhino Hi-Five: Ice-T (2006)
Ten years ago
I used to listen to rappers flow Talkin' bout the way They rocked the mic at the disco I liked how that shit was goin' down With my own sound So I tried to write rhymes Somethin' like them, my boys said, "That ain't you Ice, That shit sounds like them." So I sat back, thought up a new track Didn'T fantasize, kicked the pure Facts. Motherfuckers got scared Cause they weas unprepaired who would tell it how it relly was? Who dared? A motherfucker from the West Coast L.A. South Central fool Where the Crips and the Bloods play When I wrote about parties It didn't fit Six in the Mornin' That was the real shit [CHORUS] O.G. Original Gangster When I wrote about parties Someone always died When I tried to write happy Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime Why play ya blind? A simple look and anyone with two cents would know I'm A hardcore player fromhe streets Rappin' bout hardcore topics Over hardcore drum beats a little different Than the average though Jet you thru the fast lane Drop ya on death row Cause anybody who's been there Knows that life ain't sho lovely On the blood-soaked fast track That invincible shit don't work Throw ya in a joint You'll be comin' out feet first So I blst the mic with my style Sometimes I'm ill The other times buck wild But the science is always there I'd be a true sucker If I acted like I didn'T care I rap for brothers just like myself Dazed by the game In a quest for extreme wealth But I kick it to you hard and real One wrong move, and you caps peeled I ain't no super hero I ain't no Marvel Comic But when it comes to game I'm atomic At droppin' it straight Point blank and untwisted No imagination needed, cause I lived it This ain't no fuckin' joke This shit is real to me I'm Ice-T O.G. Two weeks ago I was out at the disco Two brothers stepped up to me And said "Hey yo, Ice We don't think you're down What set ya claimin'?" E drew the Glock, yo my set's aimin'! Dumb motherfucker Try to roll on me, please! I'm protected by a thousand emcees and hoodlums and hustlers And bangers with Jeri curls we won't even count the girls Cause they got my back And I got theirs too Fight for the streets When I'm on Oprah or Donahue They try to sweat a nigga But they just didn'T figure What my wit's as quick as a hair trigger "He's not your everyday-type Prankster." I'm Ice-T, the original gangster So step to me If you think that you're ready to Got on your bullet proof? Well mine's goin' right thru This ain't no game to me It's hollow fame to me Without respect frome streets So I don't claim be The hardest motherfucker on earth Catch me slippin, I can even get worked But I don'T slip that often there's a coffin Waitin' for the brother Who comes off soft when The real fuckin' shit goes down Take a look around all them pussies can be found they talk a mean fight But fight like hoes I'm from South Central, fool Where everything goes Snatch you out your car so fast You'll get whiplash Numbers on your roof top For when the copters pass Gang bangers Don't carry no switch blades Every kid's got a Tec 9 or a Hand grenade Thirty-seven killed Last week in a crack war Hostges tied up And shot in a liquor store Nobody gives a fuck "The children have to go to school." Well, moms, good luck Cause the shit's fucked up bad I use my pad and pen And my lyrics break out mad I try to write about fun andthe goodtimes But the pen yanks away and explodes And destroys the rhyme Maybe it's just cause of where I'm from L.A. that was a shot gun! |
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
This weekend,
seventeen youths killed in gang homicides. Now sports. |
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4:45 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Hustler, word, I pull the trigger long,
Grit my teeth, spray till every nigga's gone. Got my block sewn, armored dope spots, Last thing I sweat's a sucka punk cop. Move like a king when I roll, hops, You try to flex, bang, another nigga drops. You gotta deal with this cause there's no way out, Why? Cash money ain't never gonna play out. I got nothin to lose, much to gain, In my brain, I got a capitalist migraine. I gotta get paid tonight, you muthafuckin right. [something] my grip, check my bitch, keep my game tight. So many hos on my jock, think I'm a movie star. Nineteen, I got a fifty thousand dollar car. Go to school, I ain't goin for it, Kiss my ass, bust the cap on the Moet. Cause I don't wanna hear that crap, Why? I'd rather be a New Jack-----Hustler (chorus) Hustler Hustler Hustler H-U-S-T-L-E-R hustler (kid drop in) Yo man you know what I'm sayin? You got it goin on my man, I like how it's goin down. You got the fly cars, the girls, the jewels. Look at that ring right there, I know it's real, it's gotta be real. Man, you the flyest nigga I seen in my life! Yo man, I just wanna roll with you man, How can I be down? What's up? You say you wanna be down? Ease back, or muthafucka get beat down. Out my face, fool I'm the illest, Bulletproof, I die harder than Bruce Willis. Got my crew in effect, I bought em new Jags, So much cash, gotta keep it in Hefty bags. All I think about is keys and Gs Imagine that, me workin at Mickey D's (ha ha ha ha). That's a joke cause I'm never gonna be broke, When I die there'll be bullets and gunsmoke. Ya don't like my lifestyle? Fuck you! I'm rollin with the New Jack crew. And I'm a hustler. H-U-S-T-L-E-R hustler New Jack, New Jack.......... Here I come, so you better break North, As I stride, my gold chains glide back and forth. I care nothing bout you, and that's evident. All I love's my dope and dead presidents. Sound crazy? Well it isn't. The ends justifies the means, that's the system. I learned that in school then I dropped out, Hit the streets, checked a grip, and now I got clout. I had nothing, and I wanted it. You had everything, and you flaunted it. Turned the needy into the greedy, With cocaine, my success came speedy. Got me twisted, jammed into a paradox. Every dollar I get, another brother drops. Maybe that's the plan, and I don't understand, God damn----you got me sinkin in quicksand. But since I don't know, and I ain't never learned, I gotta get paid, I got money to earn. With my posse, out on the ave, Bump my sounds, crack a forty and laugh. Cool out and watch my new Benz gleam, Is this a nightmare? Or the American dream? So think twice if you're coming down my block, You wanna journey through hell? Well shit gets hot. Pregnant teens, children's screams, Life is weighed on the scales of a triple beam. You don't come here much, and ya better not. Wrong move (bang), ambulance cot. I gotta get more money than you got, So what, if some muthafucka gets shot? That's how the game is played, Another brother slayed, the wound is deep BUT they're givin us a Band Aid. My education's low but I got long dough, Raised like a pit bull, my heart pumps nitro. Sleep on silk, lie like a politician, My Uzi's my best friend, cold as a mortician. Lock me up, it's genocidal catastrophe, There'll be another one after me! A hustler. Hustler. H-U-S-T-L-E-R hustler. New Jack, New Jack...... |
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3:59 |
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from Body Count - Born Dead (1994)
Necessary evil
Look outside my window, I still see a fucked up world Waking up to helicopter and car alarams, Does this happen where you live? Gunshots sound in my my mind I don't flinch anymore When i see niggas in my hood, They're holdin' their dicks tight Yo, fuck my landlord I'm a step away from clearing this shotgun To erase the problem Does this happen where you live? Just had steak and lobster last night Now i gotta rob a liquor store But it seems so normal Because it's necessary evil Chorus Car hit my dog, babies die, raped in a Stairwell, cop killed a little girl, Armed robbery, shooter of a drive-by, Smokin' cain, sellin' joints in jr High Head from a minor, sex with animals, Butthole surfers, a fucked up rehearsal, Lost pawn ticket, wrecked my father's car Can't pay my school loan, major jack move, Holy underwear Stuck in the pen, forced in a gang, plain Wrapped food, Fucked up presidents, sleepin' through trash day Hit a police car, gettin' laid off, gotta pay Taxes, gridlock traffic, Jealous muthafuckas, bitch tried to do me, Hit and run, I got a fat bitch pregnant Necessary evil Little white kid with a kool-aid smile Training wheels on his bike thought the Called me a nigga Pushed that little bastard in traffic so graphic, He was holdin' his bike tight He was a victim of fucked up explaining An american example of fucked training When the fuckin' bus connected, he flew like knievel I was just necessary evil Chorus Necessary evil |
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5:07 |
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| from Ice-T - The Iceburg / Freedom Of Speech...Just Watch What You Say (1989) | |||||
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3:11 |
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from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997)
Yo it's my way, no way,
get dumped on the highway. Buck, buck feel the blast from my gun spray. Yea, you're gettin drowned in the blood, a bug, thug, feel the cops catchin slugs. Yo, it's my way, I slay, I play, you stay down, you f**k around in my town, you drown. F**k you, f**k them, f**k that, we come back through, murderin your crew - what! You don't know shit about my lifestyle, it's buckwild, late night gunfights, three strikes, I'd rather fight. Caught in the street, ya get beat down ta raw meat, f**kin with me and the Breed, you'll soon bleed. Yeah, it's Raw Breed - BC killin overseas , droppin off rooftops, punks hang from trees. Night vision, incision, the opposition, It's never your decision. My way! You can't tell me jack shit, suck my dick, out my face with that drama, I'll kill your f**kin mama. Iller than a postal worker, born to murder, suckas in my face with that bullshit die quick. It's Bizarra, ha, cause mad horror, it's the dusted world of Bizarra. High on acid, the ghetto bastard, yo punk I'll put your ass in a casket. You in a world of shit, f**kin with the Syndicate, We pack full clips, and then we're done with it. Come with it, we get it on yo, you ain't lastin, demolishin, the demolishion. Piss on your grave, a killin craze. In your town right now on any stage. Who the f**k are you? Trying ta diss my crew? Who dies tonight bitch? - You! My way! I will do what I choose, and if I loose Well then I loose, My Way! This is my f**kin' life, and if I die Well then I die, My Way! |
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0:13 |
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| from Body Count, Body Count - Violent Demise: The Last Days (1997) | |||||
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from Body Count - Body Count (1992)
No, no, no, Mommaaaaa...
All my life I loved this girl so much, all my life I loved her simple touch. She cared for me and put me on this earth, oh the pain of just a simple birth. But now I find that she has left me dumb and blind, poisoned, twisted, and destroyed my mind. She taught me things that simply were not true she taught me hate for race that's why I hate you! There's only one way I can make it right, momma's gotta die tonight. There's only one way I can make it right, momma's gotta die tonight. Momma, momma, I always loved my momma, I always loved my momma. I loved the say she hold me, I love the way she talked to me. She used to teach me a lot of things, she taught me good things, she taught me bad things. "Don't trust white people, don't trust white people. Don't trust white people, they're no good, they're no good, they're no good, they're no good. They're just gonna rip you off, they're just gonna rip you off. Don't trust 'em, don't trust 'em." I said, "Why momma?", she said, "I told you don't trust 'em they're no good." I said, "Momma, I thought we were all the same momma, why momma?" She said, "Don't ask me any questions. Don't you challenge your mutha." Momma. So one day I found I fell in love and I brought my girlfriend home and I introduced her to my mutha and she smacked me, was a white girl and I said, "Why momma? Why momma? What did I do wrong?" You know, I found out my mutha was a evil woman. She hated Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Jamaicans, Indians, Orientals, momma was no good. I learned to hate my mutha, hate my mutha. So I got some, ha ha, some lighter fluid, from the corner store and I put it around her bed, and I set her on fire! Ha, ha, ha. Burn momma, burn momma, burn momma, burn bitch burn, burn, burrrrrn. Ha, ha, ha. Burn you racist bitch! Ha, ha, ha. But she wasn't quite dead. She jumped up from the bed and I grabbed my Louisville Slugger that she had bought me for my twelfth birthday and I came up behind her and I hit her, I hit her, I hit her twice. Ha, ha, ha. Now she was out. I went into the kitchen and I got that handy carving knife that we only use on special occasions like bullshit Thanksgiving, and I took her and I laid her ol' fucked up corpse on the floor and I cut her in little bitty pieces. Cut off her arms, her feet, her neck, and I put her into little green hefty bags and I put it into my car and I said, "Momma, we're goin' on a vacation, a permanent vacation bitch." I took some of her around the world to Arizona, New York, Chicago, Atlanta, Miami, Oakland. Ha, ha, ha, yo, you wanna go to Connecticut, bitch. Ohio, Detroit, Texas, L.A. Whose laughin' now momma, whose laughin' now bitch, whose laughin' now. Ha, ha, ha, ha. So if you got a mutha or a grandmutha or a father who wants to carry on the same racist bullshit that's fucked this world up from day one, you can either look 'em in the face and tell 'em to suck your dick or do like Body Count does. All my life I loved this girl so much, all my life I loved her simple touch. She cared for me and put me on this earth oh the pain of just a simple birth. Right now I find that she has left me dumb and blind poisoned, twisted, and destroyed my mind. She taught me things that simply were not true she taught me hate for race that's why I hate you! There's only one way I can make it right, momma's gotta die tonight. There's only one way I can make it right, momma's gotta die tonight. |
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4:12 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Yo Yo, 1-2 in the place to be, M.C. Ice-T, ya know wha I'm sayin
Cold loungin' here in the new O.G. LP, you know, Original Gangsters in the House This is goin' out to all my homeboys on the streets and all the brothers locked-down It's been a long while Since I hit ya with freestyle High tech selection From the vaults of the Ice files Kick back, relax, And watch as I melt wax Don't never let a brother like me Write a dope track Cause once I hit it with the vocal tone It's mine, have motherfuckers Rush'n to rewind Cause I'll flow slow And still twist your tongues up Rock the house from night Till the sun's up Cause it really ain't How much you say it's what you sy I got no fuckin' time on the mic To play I write rhymes With addition and algebra Mental geometry Don't even come at me Talk'n that weak and Popin' that bullshit Get out my face A fool could get his head split A lot of doubters Said it couldn't be done by me them same suckers Are now lookin' from under me Wonder'n what I did I didn't play myself kid I respected my fans And made the high bid Sometimes I write my rhymes At night and fall asleep Wake up with new techniques Grab the pen And place it on some loose leaf Nothin' soft, always the tough meat The white paper and Blue lines excite my mind Not allow'n me to stop the rhyme Until the whole motherfuckin' Book's complete Then I write on the Back of the sheets I made promise To my brothers in street crime We'd get paid with the use Of a sweet rhyme We put our minds together Made the tracks clever Now we're checkin' More bank than ever Mind over matter (So ya got to have Mind Power, like the fellah's say...) Mind over matter (Mind Power) I can drop rhymes in twos, And threes and fours And still have much shit Left for encores Cause when my mind locks In on a dope idea Motherfuckin' ducks Should stand clear Cause I'm a hit the topic point blank It's jail ya better keep your shank Cause I got mine And I'm out on a solo creep (Uggga!) Your face hits the concrete You wanna roll With the niggas that don't play I think you got false courge Get out my damn way Cause the car I'm in Is rollin' full of men No kids or boys, E got the Mac 10 Islam's got the Zulu Nation back up DJ Aladdin's who Hooked the fuckin' track up Syndicate's make'n the move With the ski masks And I'm house'n the long cash So now you realize You underestimated the Ice You thought that I was OK But now you realize I'm nice But that's alright Cause I knew I'd mke it in the end Those who like me now Might not of liked me then But I'm a keep impressin' Stressin' my lesson And keep motherfuckers guessin' Armor plate my mind With walls and shields As I escape from the killing fields (I can understand) Mind over matter (I know what it means. Mind Power) Mind over matter Wise up Move the tempo of this hype groove You know this shit is dope So what you try'n to prove Vu's max as Evil E My niggaa dogs the wax My brain's a handgrenade-catch I'm a hit you with an over load Of bottomless thought Reversin' all the shit you're taught Then throw words at you Syl-la-ble-at-a-time Your brain recites the rhyme No matter what you do The power's over you when you sleep You'll be say'n these rhymes too Cause the brain has the power To control all Think positive You'll be unable to fall Brain cells swell Thought process becomes a trance Makes you feel posessed to dance I'll say I want a million My mind is so deep I'll be bustin' a check for it next week (Like the fellah's say...) Mind over matter (I know what it means. Mind Power) Mind over matter |
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5:49 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Midnight chillin' at A.M/P.M.
Coolin' drinkin' apple juice In Evil's BM The sound's up loud To attract attention Armoraled tires On a lowered suspension Nardi to steer with Alpine deck was glowin' Bumpinn' Big Daddy And the nigga was definitely flowin' I was ridin' shotgun Donald and Hen in back Look thru the tint recognized a jack Two brothers strolled up Talkin' bout get out Donald D blazed Shot one fool thru his fuckin' mouth Why would they step When they know we're strapped? I never cruise L.A. Without a Gat in my lap The other fool shot Caught the E in the shoulder blade I busted thru the car door That's where the nigga laid Hen jumped out Dropped two nines in his forehead Evil was bleedin' bad The car seats were turnin' red Looked to my left There were two more carloads Niggas in hats and hoods In an attack mode And they hadn't yet begun to fight E hit the gas It was one past midnight! Take me on a walk through hell... (screams) South Central Yo, E, drive! Drive, man drive, man! Fuck it! Just get the fuck outta here, man! We boned down Vernon Right on Normandie Left on Florence Gettin' thru the E.T.G.'s Spun out on Vermont Made a left on Colden Right on Hoover E where we goin'? He didn't even answer that Checked the rear view They were still out back Where were these brothers from? What made these brothers come? Bang! our back window Was removed by a shotgun Now Hen G was shot Don caught a ricochet These motherfuckers was ill They didn't come to play Bust a right turn, parked and then we got left Hid in the the bushes Shot the gas tank to fake death But would this really Keep them psyched? Three of us bleedin' It was ten past midnight! Midnight. Time for a homicide. (Screams) South Central C'mon, man. You all bleedin' bad, man. You got to keep up, man, we can't stop here. I really didn't like How this shit was goin' down Wrong night, wrong time Wrong fuckin' part of town Ya see we was deep In the Hoover's hood Three niggas bleedin' That shit don't look good! See over there red don't go Some places red's all they know But not our luck Tonight we was real fucked Broke down an alley And we instantly had to duck Fuckin' police on a gang sweep No time to deal with one time So we had to creep Broke thru a back yard Ran thru a vacant lot E, Hen and Don kept up To be some niggas shot Shit was gettin' craazy So I had to get busy Hen was bleedin' worse And Evil was gettin' dizzy Looked in a parking lot I needed a snatch bar Had to hot wire So I moved on an old car It was a bucket, but fuck it, it had to do Started it up And scooped my whole crew Two blocks later We saw fuckin' blue lights The pigs were behind us It was half past midnight! Take me on a walk through hell. South Central You all just lay down on the floor if this car, man. Fuck the police, man. I'm-a handle this. When they pulled us over Shit got worse I wait utill they got out And then I hit reverse Fucked 'em up, I seen one cop fall Threw it in gear, yo I'm outty yall Don't know how But somehow we got away Lost the jackers, the cops Dumped the G.T.A. Made it back to the hood Fixed the crew up And even though Evil's car blew up We made it home and then I crashed out Thinkin' bout my all-night death bout Then somethin' woke me up From my dark sleep The sound of fuckin' police When they're tryin' to creep Broke thru my door With no goddamn warning Looked at my watch It was six in the mornin'! |
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4:24 |
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from Ice-T - OG Original Gangster (1991)
Brainstorm microphone napalm
This is it, words from a timebomb Attack speed, fast as an F15 Raise the heat, light thhe gasoline Overload, it might cause a blackout Dead end There's no chnce to back out Hit the tripwire Duck from the gunfire Broken glass, screech'n car tires, bodies hit the deck As I commence to wreck Eject another clip and drip sweat Face of danger, increasin' nger Point blank I smoke another stranger Grip the mic tight I see the brake lights Hit the back door I lay down cross the floor E's on the wheels He makes the rubber squel Blood's on my gear From caps I've peeled About a block away I sit up Look back It wasn't nothin' but a Microphone contract! Dressed in black I stalk my prey Parabellum in a leather attache Low tones I speak, I speak to few Just give me the money and who the fuck to do Four blocks away my aim's clean Night scope on a silence carbine Place my crosshairs on my vic's eye Squeeze the trigger Watch the brains fly Violent? Yeah you could call me that Insane? You're on the right track But turn the sounds up So I can stay amped Do another crew and breaak camp The only way I sleep is in a cold sweat You think I'm crazy? You ain't see shit yet Cause I love to kill and kill for fun The microphone goes off Like a handgun It's goin' down now Grab your girl hops No excuses when the bodies begin to drop Look in my face fool It look like I'm play'n Don't become another Victim of mic slayin' What's up? You want your feet in some concrete? I got some brothers That'll do you for gold teeth But most the time I move, I move alone Take a bat Break your motherfuckin' dome Shoot you dead in the face With a sawed off One hundred ten degrees Ice don't get soft Cause I'm hard as they come I come correct You can't handle the vandal hit eject If not you better get Out my face sucka Or else you better be A good bullet ducker Cause I'm a rip shop Tell that ass drop Five o Ice, yo fuck a damn cop! Cause I move hard and cold With a gangster stroll Five thousand dollar suits And fly gold Rolex, you can't fit no more Diamonds on it Pinky ring, worth a house If I decide to pwn it What's up now punk? Yo start to choke up? You try to move on the Ice You'll get broke up! Midnight, time for a homicide Showtime, somebody's gonna die E hits the switch And thouands of volts connect With the weapon that's in my fist I see a sucka in the third row Try'n to riff A paragraph and a half he's stiff I start bustin' off barrages ear high Mothers grab for their children Tears fly I'm like a psycho In the mircrophone zone Speakers blown, mind gone I can't be touched Once my lyrics begin to fly Simple stage radiation Could make ya die Ya got a prob nigga you think your rep's bigger? Hold your heard right there While I squeeze the trigger Cause I'm a crazy motherfucker That's no joke My favorite smell is The aroma of gunsmoke I'm bustin' off another Lyrical nightmare Parents hate the Ice! You think that I care? Well I don't give a fuck Cause I rhyme tough Drop science, still bust the ill stuff So now it's time for crime And the rhyme is mine Track the movement Hide from the punchline I rhyme with quickness Microphone fitness The assassinator Stay off the shit list |
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5:36 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 fuckin' 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 fuckin' 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 wanna do is tell the truth All you wanna 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 fuck 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... |
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5:36 |
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from Ice-T - Home Invasion (2003)
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 fuckin' 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 fuckin' 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 wanna do is tell the truth All you wanna 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 fuck 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... |
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5:20 |
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from Body Count - Born Dead (1994)
1994 BC Rise
Chorus: Masters of revenge Masters of payback Inciters of chaos Messengers of rage All we wanna do to you Is what you did to us All we wanna take from you Is what you stole from us Chorus Bodycount You can't kill us We're already dead You can't kill us We're already dead You can't kill the truth You're already dead Chorus Bodycount You took my past I want your future You took your future You took my parents We want your children Chorus Boducount There can never be justice On stolen land There's nowhere to run You can't excape fate Chorus Bodycount Payback muthafuckas |
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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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from Ice-T - Ice T 6: Return of The Real (1996)
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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5:11 |
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from Ice-T - Rhyme Pays (1987)
(Make it funky)
So the people can get down to the funky sound Cause my crew don't mess around (Make it funky) So the girls can get busy,dog the dance floor Make the guys get dizzy (Make it funky) Totally def as Evil E guts the records and the beat is kept (Make it funky) Stupid fly,it's got to the F-U-N-K why? So that you can get loose as I produce sounds hard as the deuce Manipulate the bass gain give the level's a boost The lyric layer rhyme sayer,born to be player If politics were my kick then I'd be your mayor Governator,Senator,I'm your mentor Rap rhythm is erratic,time is four, four I'm the microphone scholar,clockin' long dollars Here to make the place funky while the fly girls holler Genius vocalist,rhyme style priceless Pound of gold around my neck,mic in my first The microphone virtuoso crazy insane I'm loco With the speed to exceed,make other MC's look slow mo Un-lease release words mean as a beast I eat MC's for lunch and dinner,I can serve for a feast Their rhymes are elementary,mine deserve a PH D This beat is F-U-N-Key my name is Ice-T Make it funky Undoubtedly you recognize this jam is the ultimate cut Uncontrollably you motivate and move your butt It's rough the beat is gangsterous,call it tough If you're diss'n stop frontin',come on whats up? Complicated voice gymnastics are all in your face Vegas got my highs,E.V's got control my bass My break is comin' get busy no time ta waste Now's the time do body work here's the place Make it funky Make it funky enough so the tracks lay tough 'Cause I'm tossin' it up and the Ice don't bluff The girl charmer toy Harmer,juice strong as armor When I stand upon the stage you could call it melodrama Intense suspense my voice emcee I wouldn't have you come and see me under false pretense The girlies do be wild'n'as I'm profilin' Limos lined around the block for about a mile'n'a half Autographs the list goes on If you forgot it "make it funky" is the name of this song Stupid dope and you know it,it rates a ten You pray my DJ cuts the records so it starts again 'Cause I can keep the mic cookin' for an entire month My rhymes are always hard hittin' I don't know how to bunt My DJ cuts like a laser E-V-I-L-E Put your finger on the records Make it,Make it funky Make it funky |
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