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 |
