Ice Cube Album

[No lyrics]

God damn, another fucking payback wit’ a twist
Them motherfuckers shot but the punks missed
Ice cube is out-gunned, what is the outcome?
Will they do me like malcolm?
Cuz I bust styles, new styles, standing. . .
Strong. . . while, others run a hundred miles
But I never run, never will
Deal wit’ the devil wit’ my mother fucking steel - boom!
Media try to do me
But I was a boy-n-the-hood before the movie, yeah
Call me nigga, bigger than a spook
But you the one that voted for duke, motherfucker
White man is something I tried to study
But I got my hands bloody, yeah.
They say I can sing like a jaybird
But nigga don’t say the j-word.
I thought they was bugging. . .
Cuz to us uncle sam is hitler without an oven
Burning our black skin
Buy my neighborhood - then push the crack in
Doing us wrong from the first day
And don’t understand why a nigga got an ak.
Calling me an african-american
Like everything is fair again, shit
Devil you got to get the shit right I’m black
Blacker than a trillion midnights
"don’t believe the hype" was said in 88 by the great chuck d
Now they’re trying to fuck me . . .
{wit’ no vaseline, just a match and a little bit of gasoline}
Its a great day for genocide
Thats the day all the niggas died
They killed jfk in ’63
So what the fuck you think they’ll do to me?
But I’m the o.g. and I bust back, boom boom
Bust back, boom boom,
Peel a cap, boom boom!
Gimme room in the fire of the sun
Hear the mack come
Hear the black come
Watch jack run
Motherfuckers can’t gank me
Fuck a devil, fuck a rebel, and a yankee
Overrun and put the presidency
After needin that, I’m down wit’ o.p.p.
I met farrakhan and had dinner
And you ask if I’m a five-percenter, well. . .
No, but I go where the brothas go
Down with compton mosque, number 54
Made a little dough, still got a sister on my elbow
Did ice cube sell out? you say "hell no!"
A black woman is my manager, not in the kitchen,
So could you please stop bitchin’?

Verse two:

{gun shots}

You missed and didn’t hit the lench mob either
[guerillas in the mist] without jungle fever
But I got the fever for the flava of a cracker, not a pringle
Bust a single, here’s my new jingle
The kkk has got three-piece suits
Using niggas like turkey shoots
My motto is "treat ’em like a prostitute."
If I say no violence devil, you won’t respect mine,
Fuck the dumb shit and get my tek-9.
And if they approach us
A-ight, a-ight - I bury those cockroaches.
And if you can’t deal wit’ my "kill at will"
Here’s a new gift to get
Try my "death certificate".
Amerikkka’s most, amerikkka’s burnt - it’s like toast
Like jordan I’m going coast to coast.
Dribbling the funk
Here comes the nigga wit’ the mother fucking monster dunk
Get off me punk
{you better eat your wheaties}
Darryl gates got the studio surrounded
Cuz he don’t like the niggas that I’m down wit’
Mother fucker wanna do us
Cuz I like nat, huey, malcolm, and louis.
Most got done by a black man’s bullet
Give a trigga to a nigga and watch him pull it.
Negro assassin,
I’ma dig a ditch, bitch, and throw your ass in
When they shoot, no, it won’t be a cracker
They use somebody much blacker
What I do?
I call up the geto boy crew
Cuz my mind’s playing tricks on me too.
Never die, surround my crib
____________ makin’ sure nobody creep when I sleep
Keep a 9 millimeter in my jeep - peep!
When I roll, I gots to roll deep.
Ain’t going out cheap
Make the mad circle on cypress hill cuz it’s so steep.
They’ll never get me
They’ll never hit me
Mother fuck that shit j-dee.
Now I relax
Grab the st. ides brew so I can max.
Sitting on the window cuz it’s so fucking hot,
And then I heard a shot -
Boom.

[No lyrics]

[Intro: Don Gargon] - {*best guess at what he says*}
Now dis one dedicated to de man dem call MacGyver (bo!)
And all double-oh-seven James Bond man 'e from de area (gunshot, gunshot)
Maximum respect to de man dem call Ice Cube (bo! bo!)
And a bust a deuce-deuce or trey-eight bout to get WICKED!

[Verse One]
One, two, three and I come with the wicked
style and you know that I'm from, the wicked
crew, act like you knew
Cause I got everybody jumpin to the voodoo, kick it
Wicked, rhymes, picket, signs
While me and the Mob gotta trunk fulla 9's
Play ya and I'll slay ya
I got thug-made dough by the ha-ir
Ready to BUCK BUCK BUCK and it's a must
to DUCK DUCK DUCK before I bust
Lookin for the one that did it
but like En Vogue, no you're never gonna get it
Cos I'm the one with the fat mad skills
and I won't choke like the Buffalo Bills
Sittin at the pad just chillin
cause Larry Wilkins just got two million, oh what a feelin
So shake that nigga and pass me the pill
and I'll slam dunk ya like Shaquille O'Neal
Like it, dig it, maybe and watch that ass get ???
Kick it cause I get wicked

Chorus: Don Gargon (can't translate)

[Verse Two]
Won't say nuttin, just listen
Got me a plan to break Tyson outta prison
Come my way and get served
Still got a duece that'll bunny hop the curb
Nappy head, nappy chest, nappy chin
Never seen with a happy grin
Show the fat foul cause I'm down
Take a look around
and all you see is big black boots steppin
Use my steel toe as a weapon
Kick ya and flip ya, now they want to
label this nigga, tape with the sticker
Kickin out girls that's nicety
Yo, I gotta body count like Ice-T
From here to New York
I get skins and ain't talkin bout pork
Swine, pig, dick
Listen to the flow of a so-called negro
who didn't know I was funky as Wilson Pickett
Dig it cause I get wicked

Chorus: Don Gargon (can't translate)

[Verse Three]
People wanna know how come
I gotta gat and I'm lookin out the window like Malcolm
Ready to bring that noise
Kinda trigger happy like the Geto Boys
April 29th was power to the people
and we might just see a sequel
cos police got equal pay
A horse is a pig that don't fly straight
Doin Darryl Gates but is Willie Williams
down with the pilgrims
Just a super slave
We'll have to break his ass up like Super Dave
I'm wicked enough to board this
Cos now it's on to the fullest
Gorilla straight from the mist
But I don't miss when it comes to this
Bring the yellow tape
The white cape, cause I'm so straight
Thru with the picket signs, take his job and stick it
Bigot, cause I get wicked

Chorus/Outro: Don Gargon (can't translate)

Now I gotta wet’cha

It’s on like donkey kong
You wanted that fast buck
Now I gotta light that ass up
The nigga with the big fat trigger
Don’t test me, gravedigger had to take a swig
Of the st, remember the time we first met up
You threw your set up now you gotta get wet up
Boom! ping! buck! pow!
Now who’s that nigga with the diff’rent style?
Uhh, ya wanted ta trip
It’s all about the clip and who can empty it
First mate, they made day ak
And I’ll kurtis blow ya ass away like aj
I’m almost certain I’m put on the hurtin
Bitch, it’s curtains!
Locced in my motherfuckin head
Gotta play connect-the-dots with my infrared
You in danger, mr gangbanger
It ain’t cool to take nappy from a stranger
Wit’cha drive-by’s it took time to catch ya
But now I gotta wet’cha

Chorus:

Now I gotta wet’cha (wet’cha)
Now I gotta wet’cha (wet’cha)
I’m comin ta get’cha (get’cha)
You better hope I don’t catch ya (catch ya)
(you’re all wet) the nigga with the big fat trigger
(you’re all wet) the nigga with the big fat trigger

S-i-m-i
Valley for the kkk, rally
A place on the map where the order is
4 devils can beat up a motorist
And get nothin but a slap on the wrist
Gorillas, gorillas report to the mist
The fist of fury and i’ma shove em
Motherfuck the jury and who ever love em
Why you have to leave it to beaver?
Now I’m chasin beaver’ ass with a cleaver
With the swing, swing, swing and chop, chop, chop
Get them on, nigga
Cos tonight we’re havin chopped liver
And i’ma cut out’cha heart
Start the fryin pan for the devil a’la carte
Twelve motherfuckers ya better be glad I never
Met’cha
Cos I’m gonna wet’cha

Chorus

Now wet motherfuckers are bloody
Cos a bullet’ll mould your ass like silly putty
Right into shape
A hollow point’ll run up in ya like ya got weight
Comin out’cha back, mr mack
Now they got yo’ guts in a sack
Use to have ya crew real fat in a huddle
Now you’re wet in a puddle, here is the ice cube
Rebuttle
You ain’t gotta chance, cos even if my bullet just
Glance
Ya still wet your pants
So what’cha wanna do when I got’cha ass point blank
Ya guaranteed to spank
Stiff as a board, ya floored
Go meet the lord and then get ignored
Cos you’re on your way to hell and that I can
Bet’cha
That’s why I had to wet’cha

Chorus

(you’re all wet) the nigga with the big fat trigger
*repeat to fade*

You can run but you can’t hide from the westside
Night stalker, shit talker, run and tell them mr l.m.
Nigga with the gat and I’m back
Off the everyday prey that I slay
Rolling with the fo’ chase ya through south-central
Monkey-wrench ho’s should know that, she’ll get the balzac
Cause I’m not staving, but fuck that
Johnny carson ho’ never had me on the late night show
Coming with the shit that’ll hitch
Steady mobbing cause the flavours good
There goes the neighbourhood nigga with the third album
How come he don’t fall off?
Rolling with the sawed-off gauge
Turn the page of the chapter, caught up in the rapture
But you know anita, she can get the pita
Eat ’em up yum, and your flawed
Mutha-fuck billboard and the editor
Here comes the predator.

Check your head for the new style
Fuck lawerence powell and presino, wynd and koon
Pretty soon we’ll fuck them like they fucked us and won’t kiss ’em
Riots ain’t nothing but dodge for the system
Fighting with the beast, no justice, no peace
If any, even if we fuck up denny
Niggaz are sick of your white mans tricks with no treat
Thats right, now it’s on, on sight
You call me a muslim, no I’m not a resident, still got my vote in
Farrakhan for president, a white america, I’m tearing ya
A new ass ho’, who’s the nigga with the new black
Strolling to your suburb house and I douse with gas
Now who’s cleaning up trash?
Eat ’em up yum, and your flawed
Mutha-fuck billboard and the editor
Here comes the predator.

Get my black rag showing and I’m ? ? ? ? ?
Kiss my grips like ? ? ? or mel’s diner
I’m meaner than a mutha-fucking hyena, chasing antelope
Put a chrome to your dome, watch it bust like a cantelope
I can’t stand a rope, so don’t try to hang ’em
Talk about dog’s, boy I can sling ’em
Ratta-tat-tat on your noggin
Cause ice will cream your ass like ? ? ? ? chocolate
I get crazy when I catch a rap
Even be flipping the toungue like ? ? ? ? das-efx
So who is ice cube?
I’m a rapper, actor, macker
Got a little problem with the redneck cracka
Get the polly, whack her, ? ? ? ? is a devil shit-packer
Coming with a crazy pitch
And the statue of liberty ain’t nothing but a lazy bitch
Don’t wanna give up the crack to the black
But you call it racial, if we go and break the ho’
But eat ’em up yum and your flawed
Mutha-fuck billboard and the editor
Here comes the predator

Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God
I don't know but today seems kinda odd
No barking from the dogs, no smog
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog
I got my grub on, but didn't pig out
Finally got a call from a girl wanna dig out
Hooked it up on later as I hit the do'
Thinking will i live, another twenty-fo'
I gotta go cause I got me a drop top
And if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop
Had to stop at a red light
Looking in my mirror not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright
I got a beep from Kim and she can fuck all night
Called up the homies and I'm askin y'all
Which court, are y'all playin basketball?
Get me on the court and I'm trouble
Last week fucked around and got a triple double
Freaking niggers everyway like M.J.
I can't believe, today was a good day
Drove to the pad and hit the showers
Didn't even get no static from the cowards
Cause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me
Saw the police and they rolled right past me
No flexin, didn't even look in a niggaz direction
as I ran the intersection
Went to $hort Dog's house, they was watchin Yo! MTV Raps
What's the haps on the craps
Shake em up, shake em up, shake em up, shake em
Roll em in a circle of niggaz and watch me break em
With the seven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven
Seven even back do' Joe I picked up the cash flow
Then we played bones, and I'm yellin domino

Plus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A.
Today was a good day Left my niggaz house paid
Picked up a girl been tryin to fuck since the twelve grade
It's ironic, I had the brew she had the chronic
The Lakers beat the Supersonics I felt on the big fat fanny
Pulled out the jammy, and killed the punanny
And my dick runs deep so deep so deep
put her ass to sleep Woke her up around one
she didn't hesitate, to call Ice Cube the top gun
Drove her to the pad and I'm coasting
Took another sip of the potion hit the three-wheel motion
I was glad everything had worked out
Dropped her ass off, then I chirped out
Today was like one of those fly dreams
Didn't even see a berry flashing those high beams
No helicopter looking for a murder
Two in the morning got the fat burger
Even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp
And it read Ice Cube's a pimp
Drunk as hell but no throwing up
Half way home and my pager still blowing up
Today I didn't even have to use my A.K.
I got to say it was a good day.
Hey wait, wait a minute fool
Stop the shit
What the fuck am I thinking about?

Intro: (*numerous men speaking*)

(peace, quiet and good order will be maintained in our city to the best of
Our ability. riots, melees and disturbances of the peace are against the
Interests of all our people and therefore cannot be permitted)
(the jury found that they were all not guilty, not guilty....)
(we’ve been told that all along crenshaw boulevard that there’s a series of
Fires. a lot of looting is going on. a disaster area obviously)
(the jury found that they were all not guilty, not guilty...)
Make it rough
(a lot of activity continues here in this....) make it rough
(we have sporadic fires throughout the city of los angeles)

Verse 1:

Not guilty the filthy devils tried ta kill me
When the news get to the hood then niggas will be
Hotter than cayenne pepper, cuss, bust
Kickin up dust is a must
I can’t trust a cracker in a blue uniform
Stick a nigga like a unicorn
Vaugn, wicked, lawrence powell, foul
Cut his fuckin throat and I smile
Go to simi valley and surely
Somebody knows the address of the jury
Pay a little visit, "who is it? " (who is ice cube? )
"can I talk to the grand wizard? " then boom
Make him eat the barrel, modern day feral
Now he’s zipped up like leather tuscadero
Pretty soon we’ll catch sergeant coon
Shoot him in the face, run up in him witta broom
Stick prick, devils ain’t shit
Introduce his ass to the ak40 dick
Two dazed niggas layin in the cut
To get some respect we had to tear this muthafucka up

Make it rough

Verse 2:

I gotta mac10 for officer wynd
Damn, his devil ass need to be shipped back to kansas
In a casket, crew cut faggot
Now he ain’t nothin but food for the maggots
Lunch, punch, hawaiin lyin
Niggas ain’t buyin
Ya story bore me
Taerin up shit with fire, shooters, looters
Now I got a lap-top computer
I told you all what happened and you heard it, read it
But all you could call me was anti-semitic
Regret it-nope, said it-yep
Listen to my big black boots as I step
Niggas had to break you off somethin, give bush a push
But your national guard ain’t hard
You had to get rodney to stop me cos you know what?
We woulda teared this muthafucka up

Huh, make it rough!
Huh muggs, make it rough!

Verse 3:

It’s on, gone with the wind and I know white men can’t dunk
Now I’m stealin blunts
And it came from betty crocker, overweight and blacker
Don’t fuck with the black-owned stores but hit the foot lockers
Steal, muthafuck fire marshall bill
Oh what the hell, throw the cocktail
I smelt smoke, got the fuck out, ice cube lucked out
My nigga had his truck out, didn’t get stuck out
In front of that store with the nikes and adidas
Oh jesus, I ? ? ? ? surplus got the heaters
Meet us so we can get the 9’s and the what-nots
Got the mossberg with the double eyed buckshot
Ready for darryl and like beretta wouldn’t say
Keep your eye on the barrel, a sparrow
Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time
But I’m rollin so that’s a fucked up slogan
The hogan’s heroes spotted the gorilla by the sizzler
Hittin up police killer
The super duper nigga that’ll buck
We had to tear this muthafucka up so what the fuck!? !

Huh, make it rough!
Yo muggs, make it rough
Huh, make it rough
Enough

Outro: (*newsreader*)

(not guilty verdicts for stacey coon, lawrence powell, timothy wynd and
Theodore vaugsinio, the four officers accused of beating motorist rodney
King)

[No lyrics]

There’s a new girl on my street
And I might introduce her to mack me
Told my homeboy I was scoping hoping
To crack them legs wide open
Ready to break that banging ass
Get it with the shad
Take a bath in her mouth yeah
Better keep the trojan
And if the sex was good still be the whole frame
Fucked around and told my plan to the man
Sitting next to the God damn men
How was I to know son
That the nigg’ blow with one and told the 4-1-1
With a big fat grand
Talking ’bout all the whores that I ran up in
Broke a nigga plan like dishes
Cuz now the bitch is getting suspicious
She know I fuck whores outa habit
Who framed cube, mothafuck roger rabbit!
Cuz I couldn’t have and got stabbed in the back
By a black ass dirty mack...

Chorus :

And if you didn’t know it’s like that
I got a big fat gat for the dirty mack
Yeah nigga didn’t you know it was like that
I got a big fat gat for the dirty mack...

There goes the bill-board pull it
And see up I’m still #1 with the bullet
What the fuck do I sing?
It looks like the predator
It’s gettin dissed by the editor
Looked up and hell of white for caper
It’s to lynch a nigga on paper
But I’m much too black for the God damn cracker
Huh! dirty macker
Even the guardian angel got mental
But never seen their ass walking past south central
Little super hair oh don’t lemme catcha
I fuck around and wetcha
Try to dirty mack me out
Try to take food out my kids mouth
You’re looking at my people are stronger than your evil
All you ask where they got the hip hop
At the dope the 187 taxi on your toe
So act like you know
That nigga that’s known to jack
Devils in little red hats
Motherfuckin dirty macks!

Chorus

Don’t come to an o.g., with that ’he said she said’
Bitch, hit the freeway, dirty mack’s get tossed
Cuz I fuck around, and jump your ass like kris kross
Just might blast, snake in the grass
Gotta shake up the ass
Found at a trunk of funk
Tall and stiff as a philly blunt
What more do you want you unfucked up the plot
And deserve just what you got
Cuz I’m hotter than tabasco
You little ass hole
Mow I gotta do you like grass chow
Pko now you see they flow on cannabis
Cause you scandalous
Don’t know who the man is
Ice cube a jack
The white ass dirt mack

Outro:

And if you didn’t know it’s like that
I got a big fat gat for the dirty mack
Yo savage didn’t you know it was like that
I got a big fat gat for the dirty mack
I suppose you don’t know it’s like that
I got a big fat gat for the dirty mack...

You can’t trust a big butt and a smile
No, that’s the old style
In ninety-deuce, shit ain’t quite the same
Bitches gotta brand new game, yo
It’s kinda hard to see
But the dating game ain’t what it used to be
Back in the day, if a ho wanted ya dough
She give you a piece of ass and there we go
Go and get knocked up and then get socked up
You be broke and locked up
But the news done hit
Bitches all over on some new improved shit
To y’all macks
Come to find out that bitches are pullin jacks
I remember every night all you had to worry about
Was gettin caught at a red light
And the nigga gettin ya five, day to days
Now shit done changed
Cos you gots to watch the ones in the skirt
And it ain’t about gettin burnt
I know it sounds strange, but could you
Stop thinkin with ya dick for a change
Cos you’ll get a bullet in your brain, mr rich
And about that bitch, don’t trust em

Chorus

(ice cube comin at’cha with a crazy bitch)
Don’t trust no (bitch! bitch! bitch!)
(ice cube comin at’cha with a crazy bitch)
You can’t trust no (bitch! bitch! bitch!)
*repeat*

Here’s how the bitches jack:
They try to catch a dumb nigga in the act
You came to the club, stepped to the bar
And pulled out a wad of doves
After you got buzzed, she walk by
You saw how big her ass was
Got her on the dancefloor
And she started dancin like a ho
Jimmy got stiff, she ain’t have a ride home
So you gave the bitch a lift
She didn’t wanna trouble you
But hopped her big ass in your bmw
Hopped to her house and started kissin
And jimmy just wouldn’t listen
Cos you got real horny
And that ain’t cool at four in the morning
Started undressing the ho
Got to the drawers and the ho said "no!
"not on the first date
"it’s gettin kinda late, could you come back at eight? "
You said "yeah!" cos you thought you met a wholesome ho
But nigga, she know you rollin in some dough
And you’ll regret and somethin ’bout a bitch you just met
Don’t trust em!

Interlude:
(scratching of bbd’s ’poison’ and pe’s ’don’t believe the hype’)

Eight o’clock on the dot, nigga’s hot
Dick hard as a rock
Straight on a solo creep
Can’t wait till her little boy go to sleep
So you can seduce the g
Bust a nut and make an excuse to leave
You got her worked out cos you the man
But the bitch got diff’rent plans
She said "take off your clothes, jump in the bed"
While she powder her nose
You get butt naked, cos you ready to wreck it!
Cos you’s a motherfuckin punk, next thing you know
The door flies open with a blast
With four niggas in ski masks
Pointin a gun at the pimp
You’re scared as a motherfucker and jimmy done went limp
They beat you down just a taste
Take ya to your house and make ya open up the safe
Drove you far, tied up in the trunk of your own fuckin car
Take you out and pop the cap
I told you the bitch was a trap
Don’t trust em!

Chorus

Intro: little russ

Hey motherfuckin cube, what the fuck wrong with you?
You didn’t kick the rest of that gangsta fairytale shit
Why don’t you kick it one good time
Niggaz on the playground wanna know what’s happenin
You left em hangin man, what the fuck?

Verse one: ice cube

Little boy blue is outta folsome
Now them three little pigs gotta roast him
Drivin down sesame street and I bet
That little motherfucker’s out fuckin smurfette
Ain’t saw the wolf yet, but it’s no doubt
They’ll catch his ass slippin at his grandma house
They got the mac-10 pointed out the coop
Cause they gotta follow they nose like fruit loops
Peeped out little miss muffet on her tuffet eatin grits
She saw the mac-10 and the bitch had the shits
Ran into her house, called up her crew
Cause red riding hood wants to kill little boy blue
And the wolf too, what is mister rogers doing?
Moved out his jordan, bought him a ewing
Him, little boy blue and the wolf in the cellar
Planning on gettin cinderella
Cause cinderella still works for the pigs
Through with the dwarfs, fuckin bebe’s kids
Now snow white got the horny ass fever
Fuckin the beauty’s beast like jungle fever
Now the word’s on the street
When the crews meet
You better make some fuckin room
Cause it’s on with the pigs and them other nigs
When the cow jump over the moon, everybody jump

Verse two

Now little boy blue is up front
With the nine millimeter, ready for the hunt
Little red riding hood caught his ass slippin
Drew down on the boy cause the bitch is steady trippin
About to get loose with the deuce deuce
That’s when the boy said, "what about the gang truce? "
The little hoe had no words
The wolf came around and the bitch got served
Three little pigs bought wigs
Dressed like sheep, cinderella is little bo peep
Tryin to creep, on the crew
The wolf, the rogers, the blue, they through
Cause the pigs did the buck buck bang, ping
Now you hear the fat lady sing
Cinderella, ran like a bitch
To the pay phone cause the bitch is still a snitch
Now the pigs are caught by the pigs and taken
In the pen to get fried like bacon
You still can’t trust no hoe
And ice cube’ll tell the kids how the stories, should go

Outro: little russ

Yeah cube, man that shit was dope nigga
You all that and a bowl of grits
Nigga that shit was on props, nigga!
Yeah that’s how you kick that shit for the ninety-deuce, nigga
What’s happenin nigga? !
Yeah nigga that’s gangsta fairytale part 2 nigga
All you trick-ass niggaz can’t fuck with it

Intro

Yeah! Word is bond!
Das EFX in this yaknowhatI'msayin
Straight from the sewer, word is bond!
Yeah! Yah! Ah - yeah! We doin this with my nigga
Where my nigga? Ice Cube in the motherfucker
Word is bond! (Yeah!)

Verse

You better check yo self before you wreck yo self
Cos I'm bad for your health, I come real stealth
Droppin bombs on ya moms, fuck car alarms
Doin foul crime, I'm that nigga wit'cha Alpine
Sold it for a six - o, always let tricks know
And friends know, we got the indo
No I'm not a sucker, sittin in a House of Pain
And no I'm not the butler, I'll cut ya (Uh!)
Headbutt ya, you say you can't touch this
And I wouldn't touch ya, punk motherfuck ya
Here to let you know boy, oh boy
I make dough but don't call me DoughBoy
This ain't no fuckin motion picture
A guy or bitch - a, I'll get wit'cha
And hit ya, takin that yack to the neck
So you better run a check

Chorus

{Das} So come on and chickity - check yo self before you wreck yo self
Chickity - check yo self before you wreck yo self
Yeah, come on and check yo self before you wreck yo self
{Ice} Cause shotgun bullets are bad for your health

Mic - mic - microphone check (One, two! Check it!)
{2X}

Verse

Tricks wanna step to Cube and then they get played
Cause they bitchmade pullin out a switchblade
That's kinda trifle, caise that's a knife - o
AK - 47, assault rifle
Hold the fifty, I'm nifty, pow
I gotta new style, "WATCH OUT NOW!"
I hate motherfuckers claimin that they foldin bank
But steady talkin shit in the holding tank
First you wanna step to me
Now your ass screamin for the deputy
They send you to Charlie - Baker - Denver row
Now they runnin up in ya slow
You're gone, used to be the Don Juan (Check that shit out!)
Now your name is just Twan
Switch it, snap it, rollin your eyes and neck
You better run a check

Chorus

{Das} So chickity - check yo self before you wreck yo self
Come on and check yo self before you wrickity - wreck yo self
So chickity - check yo self before you wreck yo self
{Ice} Cause big dicks up yo ass is bad for yo health

Verse

If you're foul, you better run a make on that license plate
You coulda had a V8
Instead of a tre - eight slug to the cranium (POOOOOW!)
I got six and I'm aimin em
Will I shoot or keep you guessin
Cause fuck you and that shit ya stressin
Bitch, get off the wood, you're no good
There goes the neighbourhood hooker (Slut!)
Go ahead and keep your drawers
Givin up the claps and who needs applause
At a time like this, pop the coochie and ya dead
The bitch is a Miami Hurricane hit
Sprung, niggaz call her 'Lips and Lungs'
Nappy dugout, get the fuck out
Cause women like you gets no respect
Bitch, you better run a check

Chorus

{Das} So chickity - check yo self before you wreck yo self
So chickity - check yo self before you wreck yo self
Come on and check yo self before you wrickity - wreck yo self
{Ice} Cause bitches like you is bad for my health

Drivin down the motherfuckin highway
The flyway hey bitch, you goin my way?
Now I got a passenger
I look at the miniskirt, now I’m askin her
Would you like to hit the fat bud,
Or perhaps should I run your name through the mud
I mean, are you giving up the nappy dugout?
She said no, well then get the fuck out
Cause I know where the hoes be feinin’
Plus your fat ass got my six-deuce leanin’
Bust a u on the avenue
Why oh why there ain’t shit to do
But then sir jinx played his mix
And you thought that shit played out in eighty six
Lookin for my dogs
Looked up in the mirror being followed by the hogs
One time’s on my motherfuckin line
Why the fuck the swine had to get behind a nigga like me
They must thind I’m a gee
They both walk up with the g. l. o. c.
(freeze! there was a robbery and the nigger looked just like you. now
Get out of the car with your hands up and legs spread.)
Started they investigation
No driver’s liscence no registration
When I stepped out the car they slammed me
Goddamn y’all who got the camera?

Chorus
Oh please, oh please, oh please, just gimme just one more hit
Oh please, oh please, oh please, just gimme just one more hit
Who got the camera?
(x2)

Verse 2:

No lights no camera no action
And the pigs wouldn’t believe that my slave name was jackson
He said don’t lie to me
I’m lookin for john, matt, or spike lee
The motherfucker called for back up
I guess they planned to beat the mack up
He called me a silly ass thug
And pulled out his billy ass club
Tearin up my coupe lookin for the chronic
Goddamn nobody got a panasonic
Found an empty can of old gold
Came around and put my ass in a choke hold
Fucked around and broke my pager
Then they hit a nigga with the tazer
The motherfucking pigs were tryin to hurt me
I fell to the floor and yelled lord have mercy
Then they hit me in the face ya’ll
But to them it ain’t nuttin but (a friendly game of base ball)
Crowd stood around I said goddamn ya
Who got the camera

Repeat chorus

Verse 3

I knew when I saw that deputy smirkin’
That they were gonna put some work in
Mr. law had to hit me in the jaw
Cause I called them faggots with guns and badges
They played rat-a-tat-tat on me head
But if I had the gatty-gat-gat they’d be dead
A victim of a big fat 187
And little devils don’t go to heaven
Last night there were eleven but they were’nt scarin me
So they tried the flashlight therapy
I looked at the black one and called him a traitor
I don’t give a fuck if you got a beta
Just take my fuckin picture
So I can go downtown and bitch and pitch ya (? )
The one that called me a spook
His name is officer david duke
If the crowd weren’t around they would’ve shot me
Tried to play me out like my name was rodney
Fuckin police gettin badder
But if I had a camera the shit wouldn’t matter
(bitch), uh who got my nine, who got my nine
Ya’ll done did it this time, uh
Who the fuck got my nine

[No lyrics]

Intro: (*guy talking*)

Good evening. police, do not try to adjust your radios. there is nothing
Wrong. we have takin control over this city as to bring you this special
Bulletin and we will return this motherfucker to ya as soon as the national
Guard move in.

Verse 1:

The cops wanna catch the nigga that won’t fetch
But I’ll blast ya, never call ya master
Who is that kickin up shit much faster?
Rollin on a scooter, you know I might do ya
See a black clock and my buckshots run right thru ya
I never knew ya
Cos I’m not a trick
You can suck the biggity-dick, I’m not the piggity-pig
I get away quickity-quick
On the plane to south central
Never get played by the monkey wrench ho
Staedy mobbin I’m just like robin hood
Up to no good, so many bitches on my wood
To the right of me and to the left of me
Bitch, I got so much game I need a referee
Throw a penalty of ass interference
Damn, y’all over me, so bitch get on the bitch
Here comes the cops so I better hit the fence
Better run fast cos the dobermans pinch
And I won’t play mine in the daytime
Goddamn, here comes the canine
Four legged copper that wants to use ice cube as a whopper
But who’s the first nigga to outrun a chopper?
No lie say hi to the bad guy

Interlude: (*cube talkin with officer*)

Fuck! (hey guys, where ya headed? )
Nowhere, man (got your licence and registration? )
Yeah, hold up, right here (hey, what’s in that box back there? )
Nuttin, aah, nuttin (they happen to be donuts? )
(ya got a glazed donut? how bout a beerclaw? )
Aaah... (if you don’t have one, I got ta gaffle ya)
What? you gon’ gaf... yeah!

Verse 2:

See one-time, hit em up
Cos you know the lench mob is down to get em up
People think ice cube roll with the gangs
Cos I’m in a coupe de sittin on thangs
Ain’t gotta tell me twice about the jack
See a got a 9 in my lap ta take care of that
Caps get peeled on the regular
Cos niggas try to get me for my cellular
Knick knack paddy wack, the mack daddy’s back
Kidnappin hos like the patty hurst jack
Have the white ho, where the fo’-fo’?
Go rob a liquor store, they can’t blame it on a nigga row
Bring the money to the rooster
Had the bitch and the mob bein the booster
Damn, can’t stand when the bitch get sent to sample *? bran? *
And come back up man
You wanna point the finger at me cos the og
Is sooped like chevro rd
Humpin, jumpin, had the place jumpin
Goddamn, gotta break you off sometin
You wanna know why I bust in half
Now look at you now
Huh, and I’m out real fast
Get the paper out yo’ ass, baby
Yo, here we go, listen to the po’
Shoot the bo-bo and act like ya know, ho
Fuck with the flow and die
When I walk by say hi to the bad guy

Interlude:

Ai yo man, there’s just one left (I’ll make a deal with ya)
What? (aah, ya got one of those powdered donuts?
(how bout that twister? if it have cream in the middle, I’m gonna have to
Gaffle ya!)
You gon’ gaffle us? (hey, can I reach back there and get one? 0
Aaah yeah homie, go on and reach ahead here
Duck ya head in here man
*gun shots*
(what kind of cop killer are you? )