this record hit an y'all players Special shout out is goin' out to the one And only MC Hammer, alot of people diss you man They just jealous, fuck 'em, fuck 'em Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, fuck
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
More fuckin' funerals, dead homies Niggas out here killin' each other I don't know why And when it happens to you just can't turn the other fuckin' cheek
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
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
I'm finding out who was really true Two white boys got my brother on a hostage's tip [Ice Cube] Fuck that, I wanna give them full clips So you better
them young boys respect your name Keep your heaters at close reach cocked and ready Cause the streets will catch you slipping, rock ya steady Watch your back
'm in the buildin', you in the front yard Life's a bitch, nah, better yet a dumb broad And I bet I can fuck the world and make it come hard Yeah, you boys
' roll I, make the boy fall out Teddy Bear's on my feet all 'round I'm back again, what you gonna do now? Get out of this party girl and come back to
verse 1] shorty the henny got me feeling right ya heard me? my momma gone you could spend the night ya heard me? i'm not playing i'm trying to fuck tonight
got fucking murked by Salene Heard he got it in the range nigga Bean popped one in his brain Over some-thing took his watch and his chain Country boys
bad self, just have it back to normal When I touch down There's no need to ask me, okay Everybody know them Southern boys love that bass Atlanta go bananas
thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin' and He and his boys gon' be yappin' to the Captain And there I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again Back
-geyeah, geyeah You know I thug 'em, fuck 'em, love 'em, leave 'em 'Cause I don't fuckin' need 'em Take 'em out the hood, keep 'em lookin good But I don't fuckin
smoke kids can't chase the ice cream truck Girls fighting over Rollie young boys hype things up Niggas fighting over Cold young boys light things up All the petty ass wars fuck
fuck, there he go again Talkin' bout hoes and dough again Yup! Can't hold it in I'm surprised I got so much dough to spend But, back when I was poorer
it down, blow it like trial, Panatella Dutchy wine in my tall glass, Young Money baby, big shit like a horse ass, Stacks in my backpack, shades on, hat back
back down probably wont know how i go home babe be wanna suck my bone she gotta fuck me jeans on fuck me dress on, fuck me jeans on, fuck me dress off