Yeah, last year a lot of motherfuckers asked me
why I didn't do no old sex nasty shit
But this year I went down to Miami and got my nigga from 2 Live
Brother Marquis in the house! (Yeah I'm the motherfuckin nigga)
Yeah, we gonna answer the question about girl problems
All these niggaz is havin girl problem, Marq
(Huh, tell them man, tell them how it is)
Lemme tell you what time is it...

I got a ho from the East, got a ho from the West
Got a ho that likes to jack it off and rub it in her chest
I got a ho from the North, a ho from the South
A ho that likes to suck it long and hold it in her mouth
I got a bitch with hair, a bitch with none
A bitch with a knife, a bitch with a gun
A bitch with a ass big as a TV set
And there's a bitch over there; hey, the one I'm gonna get
But yo but maybe not, she might not like me though
No sweat to a vet; I'll slam a sista though, word
Ice in the whole damn herd
I fuck 'em all and leave 'em on the curve
I got a bitch with a mink, who rocks a fat gold link
who likes to fuck me with her ass up on the kitchen sink
Got a bitch with tits, a bitch with ass
A bitch with none, but hey I give her a pass
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit it...
Nah a bitch ain't one


I got a bitch that's old, a bitch that's new
A bitch who love velvet in the colors blue
I got a bitch who's fat, a bitch who's built
A bitch who all her titties give out powdered milk
I got a bitch who's funny, a bitch who ain't
A bitch who can sing, a bitch who cain't
A bitch who loves fuckin on a airplane..
I even got a bitch off +Soul Train+
I got a bitch who rolls a rag-top Benz..
Long ends
I got a bitch who's broke as a bum..
But she's the most fun
I got a bitch who play piano, a bitch who don't
A bitch who dances naked, a bitch who won't
A bitch who's short, a bitch who's tall
A bitch who burns my pager with priority calls
And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
Got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit me

Yo Marquis - you from Miami man why don't you show
these motherfuckers all the over the world; the 2 Live style
of how the bitches treat a motherfuckin fly nigga like you


I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one of them
I don't trip on hos, cause I don't need none of them
Pussy's the temptation, dick's the persuasion
All hos suck cock nigga how you play 'em?
That's why I don't sleep on 'em, I just freak on 'em
Stick dick in they mouth; take it out and I skeet on 'em
The nigga the one-nighter, the bitch exciter
I only love my hos when I'm goin up inside her
Problem number one is gettin money
I'd rather taste the green than sip the honey
So don't expect nuttin cause I ain't offerin
I go hard on my bitches, cause I'm never never softenin
Puttin the demand on 'em, fuck 'em and scram on 'em
The wham, bam, thank you ma'am game is ran on 'em
So fuck how you feel, you fuckin cheap thrill
I hope you took the pill cause I won't pay the bill
Gettin pussy's just another expense
If pussy pays the bills then dick pays the rent
I only need a ho for one thing and that's to cum
I've got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one!


Ha! Yo Marquis my motherfucker you got problems man?
(A bitch ain't one) Aww shit!
Now let me tell you how to do this shit

[M] I got a bitch that loves to G
[I] She'll fuck you right after she fucks me
[M] I got a bitch who loves both
[I] I got a bitch who loves handcuffs and ropes
[I] I got a bitch that's fast, a bitch that's slow
[M] A bitch that's a virgin and a bitch that's a ho
[I] A bitch that lies
[M] A bitch that's true
[I] A bitch who's a man BECAUSE THEY'RE Bitches 2
[I] I got a bitch that's cool
[M] A bitch that's hot
[I] A bitch who loves rap, a bitch who loves rock
[I] A bitch who's lost and one who knows where it's at
[I] She gets up under me and purrs like a cat
[M] I got a bitch that runs, I got a bitch that walks
[M] I got a bitch that yells, I got a bitch who talks
[I] I got a bitch that's dirty, got a bitch that's neat
[I] I got a super fine bitch that I knocked in the swap meet


And I love 'em all, I love 'em crazily
And they love me back - that's why they stay with me
So if you havin girl problems, I'll be there for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one - hit me...
No a bitch ain't one..
(Huh, you know a bitch ain't one!)


Youknahmsayin? I got problems with my motherfuckin rent Marquis
But a bitch ain't one


Man you got yourself nothin man
Fuck them raggedy stank-ass hos nigga


A bitch ain't one
I got a problems stayin out here on these streets
with the police trying to take a nigga out, y'know?
But a bitch ain't one
Got problems with motherfuckers.. buyin my records
But a bitch ain't one


Fuck 'em all, nigga fuck them motherfuckers


Youknahmsayin? A bitch ain't one
Got problems man


All them motherfuckers can kiss my motherfuckin ass.. f'real


Really, niggaz worryin about bitches
They better, they better find somethin else to worry about

Yo whats up man? Yeah I gotta trunk fulla this shit
Word, broads still with me man, comin over to grapevine right now
Yo I can't talk right now man, I gotta get off this phone

Damn, how'd I get into this scam
Roll in a car with the trunk worth 5000 grand
I came up from the curb, word
First thing it rocks, now my ride's packin crazy birds
I gotta freak in the front seat
She got crazy game, might even have more than me
And thats why I don't trust, I ain't no busta
One wrong move and I'll dust her
But she knows that, keeps a gat
Works much plastic, always stays on phat
She said she loves me
Looks deep in my eyes, sometimes cries, all lies
She only loves my cash flow, long dough
The falso love of a pimp and a hoe
But me and her gotta job to do
Get this luggage back to the crew
She got scanner, I hadta listen to the pigs talk
And if they speakin about us then its jumpin off
But I ain't sweatin them at all
2 cops'll roll up and 2 cops'll fall
The lines on the highway, I'm makin my mind drift away
To my last jail stay
5 years for a 459
I'm never goin back, no matter what the crime
Surrenderin ain't me
Fuck that, I'm holdin court in the street G
For a nigga like me there ain't no ounce
My life filled with drug busts and shoot outs
Pure ghetto anger, pure ghetto anger
Pure ghetto anger, I'm addicted to danger
Some nights I crash clubs
Rollin with the posse made of well-known thugs
Cool out with the freaks
Truckin much jewels, beggin for beef
Thens some niggaz roll up
Lookin for a way to pump the reps up
But I ain't the one
I'm handin out beat downs, no need for guns
Sometimes I gotta ask myself
Is all this buck whylin good for a niggaz health?
I don't know why
Am I suicidal, do I wanna die?
The answerin, simple
A headache throbs in my temple
It says it ain't fair, it says it ain't right
It says its goin down tonight
We finally made it to the drop spot
King and Weston Ave, snoody fox
The posse was there, but it ain't right
Fuckin police lights
Its all goin down that road blocks
I never seen that many cops
It was a setup, my whole damn crew's gettin wet up
Big time, some motherfucker dropped a dime
But even in the flurry of gun shots
My adrenaline was boilin hot
I crash down on the floor of the ride
Punch the gas, drove that benz through they punk ass
Hit Vernor doin 90
Looked in the rear-view, no one behind me
I got on the phone
Called up the homies to see what went wrong
But no time to sweat that
I still gotta trunk fulla shit, I was on phat
I just need a cool place to hide
Dumped the benzo, slammed the G ride
Me and a freak hit a motel crash spot
The streets was hot
Rubbed me down, said she adored me
Said the gunfire made her horny
The she pushed me back on the bed
Licked me head to toe, toe to head
Then I closed my eyes real slowly
Is this love? No not me
Then I felt a pain in my chest
The smell of gun powder and burnt flesh
I looked in her face, opened my mouth
And then her badge came out

Come on
Come on


Do this, ugh, come on, come on
Time to get wreck and kick the so on and so on
The I-c-e-T
O.G. M.C.
L.A.P.D.
H-a-t-e-
s (Ho!)
Watch the mic blow
I flip scripts, and the Dump drops the Ammo
Time to get wreck with the new style
It's '93 and MC's are gettin buck wild
But I - ain't a - nigga
That's gonna get left with a big zero as a figure
I'm gonna end up with a big sum
Cause if you don't like one jam, I always got another one
Different, specifically I don't copy
Tear up the track if the flow sounds sloppy
I don't play one game
I bust about a dozen cuts on my lp's, none the same


I ain't new to this
I ain't new to this
Never been
New to this
Nigga
New to this
I ain't new to this
Fool
New to this
Fuck around and catch a left and a right fist


Boom bam, I drop fat slang
When I used to hustle, used to be down with the crack game
When I was young, I used to roll with a street gang
If you wanna squabble, muthafucka, it ain't no thang
I ain't new to this, I ain't new to this
Blow your dome, I hit quick as a pugilist
Ugh, ah, what's up? Now your eyes swoll'
Thought I went soft, cause my records went gold
(Sucker) Buster, you'se a - muthafuckin punk fool
Caught you in your eye while you reached for your tool
Now it's mine, and you're blind
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop goes the nine
Yeah. what you're dissin bout, friend?
Sayin I went out, but you ain't never been in
I got r-e-s-p-e-c-t in the industry
That's somethin that you'll never see



(They can get a smack for that) --> Flavor Flav
(Yeah-yeah)


On and on to the funk track
Back glass shakin like shit, that's where the trunk's at
That's cause my shit's - made for
Niggas that are hardcore
Brothers is quick to hook a left to your right jaw
Girls, come on, girls, come on, girls, come on
Get your clothes off and the fun on
Girls, come on, girls, come on, girls, come on
Get your clothes off and the fun on
It's time to check cash
Jump in my 4, hit the switch and lay the ass
While the Klan try to kill me
But I wrote 'riot' on my muthafuckin will, gee
So when I'm gone, it's on
Caps goin off on the streets like popcorn
Talkin bout Simon till the early morn'
Word is bond
But now I just cool
Bumpin my Gang Starr tape by my pool
I ain't new to this




Check, check, I got problems with the press
Caught the punk in traffic, stabbed the sucker in his neck
(Ugh) Punk reporter tried to diss me
(Ugh) Now the muthafucka's history
(Ha) I got to make a break hardcore fat tape
Word, I don't fantasize, I don't exaggerate
Just kick correct with the 1-2 mic check
Still quick to swing, take a sucker to the deck
I'm not the nigga you should step to like a sucker
Walk up talkin shit, you best to be a good ducker
Your posse best to run from my gun
Keep my nine off safety, and E holds the other one
(Yeah, sucker)



(They can get a smack for that)

And you don't stop

Fuck, fuck around and get your punk ass dropped

Yeah

Ice-T
'93 for the underground
I ain't new ta this

Yeah! Right about now motherfuckers is layin for a nigga like me Ice-T
to bust some freestyle shit... but I don't do that
I just cold lounge up here at the Ammo Dump
with my nigga Alladdin, SLJ, LP and my nigga Henry G
Yeah, we do the shit like this



The card after the ace is deuce
So cut the nigga loose on the 3
That's me
The motherfuckin T
I got ride on my surfboard
Rhyme hard
But only buy the shit that I can't afford
That's everything
That's why I truck big fat rings
Cause in the motherland gold is for kings
I got backup
To jack up
Punks who try to act up
Do a world tour
Watch the big bank stack up
Motherfuckers get dropped with the quickness
I got an ill left and a right fist
Make mistakes and you'll lose
Or you might die
Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your bruise
And that's no lie
Meanwhile the penile is stacked to the top with my niggaz
Mostly for squeezin triggas
I call em homies
Pigs call em crooks
So I write and put bucks on they books
I give a fuck about a cop or a G-man
They all talk shit
Their breath smellin like semen
I catch em in the alley all alone
Put em in the prone
Pop! Pop! Pop! To the dome



It's the G-style
Gangsta style



G Style, The gangsta talk
I got a teflon .9
And it eats vest
I take a motherfucker out quick
Just for talkin shit
Ride Rolls
Catch hoes like a mitt
LA, Atlanta, New York
Yo, my shit rocks
Chi-town, Miami, Detroit
I get much props
Because I roll with the hardcore G
Every street's the same street to me
I don't bullshit
I don't quit
Writin a rhyme fit
KKK pray each day
That I get hit
Motherfuckers try to flip on the Icepick
Move and slip
Close the eyes and catch a fuckin clip
Not in the ghetto no more
But I do hang
Got a black game
And it's sittin on them thangs
I kick the game from the street
Not the slamma
Tighten up my knockas with a big lead hammer





Some of the times
I write my raps with extreme speed
Some of the times
I take the pen and make pads bleed
My mind clicks to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A lot of people die
Some nights I can't right
Stare at the blue lines
I think I'm a go blind
Then the beat becomes me
Sit in the dark
And write a whole fuckin LP
G Style, the gangsta talk
Never near soft
Hard as a knockout bout
It's no sellout
I keep crime in my rhyme
Cause it's my thing
Packed with guns
And drugs
And lots of street slang
A-B-C-D-E-F, and LAPD
Words from a motherfuckin OG
Ammo Dump pumps the sounds that you bump in your trunk
So turn it up punk
What'cha fraid of?
What'cha made of?
Pull the pin
Set the grenade off
Blastin sounds out ya jeep
On every city street, nigga
Straight gangsta beat





Many like to dress the style, and act hardcore
Many motherfuckers are and they crack jaws
I like to lay in the cut
In a nightclub
Don't smoke bud
Drink suds
But I gets loved, mack, cool
I scope the freak with the mad backs
Hit her with the gangsta style
Cool, relaxed, bam
Put her in the Benz
Bump Too $hort, let her know
Right off the top, what's my sport
You think long
You think wrong
You got it goin on, baby doll?
But I won't sing you no love song
You either love me
Or you don't
You're either rollin tonight
Or you won't
She likes the style
Cause it don't bullshit around
Tounge in my ear, real slow
And then it went down
I gotta flip into a ill mode
Pack a clip full of hype tracks
And then unload
Music for the hardcore beatdown
No weak pop shit
Strictly underground
And if you don't like the style, as I get wreck
Ease back nigga, catch a knife through the neck

Woke up the other mornin, I heard a rumor
They said the gang wars was over
I told em they was bullshittin, they said it's real as hell
Can't explain the way I felt
Too many years I seen my brothers die
And I can't say that shit was really that fly
But I used to gangbang when I was younger
So it's really hard to tell a kid that he's goin under
I never thought I lived to see us chill
Crips and Bloods holdin hands, the shit is ill
But I love it, I can't help it
Too much death on the streets, and we dealt it
Van Ness Boys, The Hoovers, The 60s
Bounty Hunters, 8-Treys, all coolin out, gee
I pray the shit'll never stop
You used to see the wrong colors, and the gats went pop-pop
But now the kids got a chance to live
And the O.G.'s got something to give
That's love, black on black, that's how they made it
And if any busters flip, they get faded
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love


I got a lotta love, cause you're all my brothers
Red or blue, black's the color
We got a chance, so we can really sweat the real fools
Show those muthafuckas the real tools
Check the enemy, it ain't the family
Not 1-11, try L.A.P.D.
They gotta understand, they beat on a blackman
There's gonna be drama, know what I'm sayin?
And if we flip, let's all flip together
Cause I'm prepared, kid, for rough weather
And we gotta realize, the boys on the east side
You call em S-A's, I call em allies
Because the day that we all unite
Watch the pigs get real polite
Punk muthafuckas gotta learn quick
That we ain't takin no more shit
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love


Crenshaw Boulevard, Sunday afternoon
Folks sittin on things, mad systems boom
The girls are lookin better
The gang truce is on, so you wear whatever
At Venice by the ocean
Rag-top Trey hits the three-wheel motion
There's gangsters all around
Still crazy sets, but you just don't clown
I pray L.A. can stay this way
It's the first summer I can really say
I felt cool, we all chilled
Went to the park, and nobody got killed
Now if you got a problem, it's man on man
You don't need a gang to solve em
I seen the greatest thing I seen in my life
Two brothers in a straight up fist fight
Nobody pulled a gat, nobody jumped in
Nobody pulled a knife, nobody got done in
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to my city, cause I got a lotta love


G-a-t-e-s, I hope you wear a vest
Even after you're out the fuckin office
Cause we're on a totally different tip
Fuck that pig brutality shit
This unity is gettin to me
Every brother on the street is my homie
I'm rollin through a hood that I never been
And every brother steps to me as a friend
I love it, I love it
And nothin in my life will ever be above it
We wanna see our kids all grown up
We're tired of seein our hoods get blown up
L.A. is a great place
Fly girls, dope cars, life at a fast pace
But gangbanging was killin it quick
Another child got hit - bullshit
Pop-pop-pop, 10 on a weekend
We was goin off to deep end
But now we got a chance, my friend
To mend, and make the colors blend
Let's all go out on a picnic, kick shit
And squash all the static
Last year I lost about five homies
This shit is real to me
L.A. is where I'm speakin of
Peace to all the gangsters, cause I got a lotta love

Yo
This is goin out to all the gangbangers
All over South Central
Watts
Inglewood
All over L.A., basically
East L.A.
Youknowmsayin?
It's basically goin down
Peace to all the Crips and the Bloods
Van Ness Boys
Hoovers
Rollin 60s
83's
Bounty Hunters
Yeah
And the Jungle
This is goin out to all the brothers over there in Watts
You know what I'm sayin?
Throwin it up
Grape Street
Nutty Blocc
Front Hood
And all them niggas out there in Compton
Rollin 30s
Harlem
Ah yeah
Pueblos
Nickerson G's
Peace
Inglewood Family
18th Street
South Loc
And all the S-A homeboys
All the different sets
Every set, Crip, Blood
What doesn't matter to me
Cause I gotta love
You know what I'm sayin?
Hope the truce never ends
Youknowsayin?
We can do this

All right! When we go up in this goddamn house
all I want is the motherfuckin' kids!
As far as pops I don't give a fuck what you do...
Bust him in his motherfuckin' head!
If he got any money, take it!
If there is money there, rob the motherfuckin' joint!
As far as moms bust her in her goddamn head!
Dumb bitch, that's the reason we're going up in there!
She don't know what the fuck she's talkin' about!

Everyone get back, this is a rap jack
I'm takin' your kids' brains, you aint gettin'em back
With a move of perfection, my dissection
Some call it lethal injection
I'm gonna fill'em with hard drums
Big drums, bitches, hoes and death, come on and get some
I'm not the nigga that you want to leave your kids alone
Cause I got my own opening-dome kit
And once again I'm gonna put them under my fuckin' spell
They might start givin' you fuckin' hell
Start changin' the way they walk
They talk, they act, now, whose fuckin' fault is that?
The home invader...

Yo, moms you can basically just suck my dick!
This is a home invasion...
Yo, pops that shit you talkin' is noise! Word! You full of shit!

Check this out, moms, I said time bomb
And they sit in your house and remain calm
Till you feed'em lies and the flip
Start talkin' crazy shit (Fuck you!)
Might call you and pops a fool
Tell ya that's why they hate school
Been offensive and askin' questions
Give your brain indigestion
Why? Why? Because I have indoctrinated the youth
Yhey're mentally intoxicated with truth
So they know the noise you talk are lies
Pretty damn soon they'll be by (I'm outta here)
They listen to me and i give'em the real
And every night caps get peeled
And every night a ho gets smacked
A fool gets jacked
Now, whose fuckin' fault was that?
The home invaders...

Yo! Yo! Yo!
All that shit you taught me, mom, was full of shit!
Know what I'm sayin'?
How the fuck you gonna tell me to run my motherfuckin' life?
Bitch! You dont even know who the fuck you are!
You talkin' about you don't like rap, you don't like how I dress!
Yo! Fuck you and pops! I'm outta here!
Both of y'all can kiss my ass...

All cops want me, so does the F.B.I.
Because my rhymes are fly
They still tryin' to stop m,e shut me down block me
Make motherfuckas boycott me
But that will never happen, it's impossible
I move straight through all obstacles
They say I'm fuckin' up the minds of little kids
But half of my fans are in college
P.M.R.C. suck my dick, please
You can kiss my ass while you're on your knees
Word! You're listening to the verbal assassinator
E's the crossfader, your factual updater
Until your cranium grows like uranium
Hard as titanium, parents, I'm blamin'em
For teachin' you lies about life, racist viewpoints
And other trite bullshit they learned back in the day
While I learned about death from an A.K.
But they'll never quite understand
Bam, bam, bam, no gat is the Walkman
Boom, bash, yeah, yo, it's goin' down
Me and Ice Cube are in town
But the fuckin' pigs cancelled the concert
They're just scared of some niggers that do work
What they do? What did I do?
Just say truth motherfucka and it's comin' through
I tell you what we did: we stole your fuckin' kids
The home invader...

All right! we got the motherfuckin' kids!
We outta here! C'mon...

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'...

Yeah! 1993, I'm back motherfucker, this is Ice T.
Got my nigga Ice Cube in the motherfuckin house.
Yeah! Up here in the ammo dump studios I got my
nigga Aladdin, SLJ's in the motherfuckin place,
behind the mixin boards,
we about to do dis shit like this here!



It's goin down tonight in L.A.
Buckshot and uzis spray
Microphone blowa
The bitch checka
The ho wrecka
Ice motherfuckin T
Nigga step to me
But grab ya hoes quick
Cause the Syndicate's throwin that crazy dick
Punk motherfuckers run up
You'll get done up
We'll have your ass gunned up
Before sun-up
So what's the color I'm raggin?
Been a millionare for years
Still saggin
Left pocket's stuffed with the ???
.380 in my right so it sags a little bit
More than the rest of my gear
When I'm on tour
I empty clips
Bust lips
And break jaws
Cause I love to loc up
So punk motherfucker don't choke up
When you're talkin to me



Ice, Ice motherfuckin T [x4]



Bush, Quayle and Clinton got a problem with me:
The motheruckin T
I give less than a fuck about any of them
Or their fuckin police friends
They'd like to take me out
Make me a goner
They even tryin to sweat Time Warner
Why?
For tellin the truth to the youth
That a lot of motherfuckers are hot
And want police shot?
You can't stop the shock (?)
The fires are out
But the coals are still hot
I got juice to bring pain
You tryin to fuck with the Ice
Are you insane?
This shit is bigger than me
Be warned
It's the calm before the storm
And every fuckin thing I write
Is gonna be analyzed by somebody white





Run motherfucker, hide motherfucker, trip motherfucker, die motherfucker
You don't give love
And you won't get loved
You don't push
And you won't get shoved
No joke
I ain't here to laugh
I ain't here to cry
But every night of the week
One of my homies die
Eeny meeny mynie moe
Blood's pourin out the naps of your afro
It could be you
Could be you
Could be you
Could be your whole damn crew
It happens real quick
Screechin tires
Next thing you're hit
Your body's cold
Your body's hot
You feel your chest
You gasp for breath
You're shot
And now your homies is trippin'
Lookin for a gat to put they clip in
Street crime-
That's the thing I bring, Ice T
I rap ??? sing
They call it controversy
I call it truth with no mercy
The beats are phat Ammo Dump tracks
The kind that make speakers crack
Not made for squares
Or the weak punks
That made the bump trunks
Press-
Get the fuck out my fuckin face
I ain't got no more time to waste
A ho is a ho, a bitch is a bitch, a nigga is a nigga
And that's it
I'm through explainin the shit
You just makin me backtrack
The next duck reporter might get hit with a blackjack
Plus
Every one of my true fans
Totally understands
A nigga like me

Yo, Ice, the organization say they can't stay in business with us any
longer. What you gonna do?

We always knew we were gonna come to this point sooner or later... we have
absolutely no option but to move forward. We'll have to set up our own
distribution, manufacturing, run a totally indipendent organization and
operation. We still got our connections in Texas, Miami, New York, Chicago,
Detroit and soldiers on the street willing to die. I can't put any cut on
the product... I just can't live like that. But from now on if any cops
get in our way... [3 gunshots]



Turn up the mic, dog
So I can get off
Find me Charlton Heston and we might
Cut his head off
I'm not to be fucked with
Step in the range of my guage and get bucked quick
Niggas, hoes, I don't know who you are
My friends or foes
Smile in my face
And plot to kill me behind doors
I got a new attitude
No trust
Got me in a corner
All a nigga can do is bust
It may be you
There's gonna be a lot of dead before I'm through
I'm 'bout to break off niggas who play me and dis me
Try to switch from side to side like the ??? ???
The damage is done
Source magazine
You're the first one
You try to dis Chuck, Cube and me
How the fuck you pick us 3?
You punk motherfuckers ain't shit
You're just a bunch of hoes
Makin' money off the pros
And when I see I get you in my sights
I give yo' ass a story to write
Cause it's on



It's on motherfucker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! cause it ain't no thang
To put in work and watch your head burst



A lot of fans ain't shiy
Let me repeat:
A lot of fans ain't shiy
Quick to flip if our group don't hit
That don't make you nothin but a pop ho bitch
And I don't need ya
I love to bleed ya
All I ever wanted was a real nigga's praise
But the sad motherfuckin fact
Is that ain't that many real motherfuckers these days
Game knows game I know too many who plays the name
And I can make it in the music or the street game
I still got hoes that'll work
Still got crews that'll work
Still roll with an extra clip
And those who think they'll stop me
Doubt it
Those motherfuckers better think about it
You'd besta let me rap
Ice back on the streets?
You don't want that
Cause I break ill
And you really ???



It's on motherfucker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cause it ain't no thing
To put in work and watch your body jerk



It's on motherfucker
You Goddamn right it's on
My royalty cheque
Yeah, fool, I write my own
I own my own label
Put my own shit out
So no one tells me what the fuck to talk about
And all the suckas that said I was through:
You need to wake up to my view
I'm fallen off
Ha! Ha! That's a joke!
You motherfuckers are still unknown and broke
And I'm stankin' rich
My fuckin maid lives better than you, bitch
So shut your trap
When it comes to this level of game
You don't know jack
CIA
FBI
IRS
Try to ??? for sweat
But they'll never sweat you son
Cause you're broke
And you're dumb
And you're no threat to no one
Them fools don't play
I gotta deal with those motherfuckers every day
They'd love to get me behind bars
They hawk a nigga like I'm Carlos Escobar
But in a way I am
Been puttin dope on the street for years
And don't give a damn
So I'm thinkin about them, friend
The real motherfuckin gangstas wanna see me end
It's gonna end up in a bloodbath
No doubt
That's the only way I'm going out



It's on motherfucker
And you can't turn the shit off
Catch you in the streets and your ass'll get tossed
Bang! Bang! Bang! Cause it ain't no thing
To put in work and watch your head burst

Yo, Ice, 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...