(feat. Ice Cube, Ice-T)
Ice cube's in the mutha-f**in' house
the n***a you love to hate
Ice cube's in the mutha-f**in' house
the n***a you love to hate
Ice cube's in the mutha-f**in' house
the n***a you love to hate
Ice cube's in the mutha-f**in' house
the n***a you love to hate
[ICE CUBE]
Yo, here comes the n***a with the ruff, terror
the paranoid, gots to get the boy
Get your steel cuz I feel like a headbanger
Yah, I got a gang of sh**s, styles guns
my uzzie wieghts a mutha-f**in' ton
bucking down one, bucking down two,
bucking down your crew, mutha f** you
Pigs were blue, I where black, nothing but black
Cause god damn its a brand new payback
f** Pat Sajak, never did nothing for a n***a
on tha trigga the zigga the zag the nickel the bag
the n***a the sag the forty five mag. got you runnin' like a f*g
So, keep your mutha-f**in' jokes
Cuz, I'm that n***a with a fresh pair of locs
No yokes but smokes
Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers
get yah for your drawers, young n***as out to k** for cars
Ice T in the mutha f**in' house
Ice T in the mutha f**in' house
Ice T in the mutha f**in' house
Ice T in the mutha f**in' house
Ice T in the mutha f**in' house
Ice T in the mutha f**in' house
[Ice T]
O to the mutha f**in G I break crazy
a lot of n***as hate me but they can't fade me
Stop me clock me cops wanna glock me
mutha f** mutha f** pigs can't stop me
UHH, am I a G, I got proof
Banged in my youth, keep n***as on the roof
with a scope, dough, Cube keep the rope Tupac string a n***a up
(?Hit the mob dope?)
So whats up Punk
You want what I got step to me wrong f** around and get shot
Your moms crying f** her bust her
b**h start screaming to me and I'll dust her
Pops got the LP phat, track on hit
Laid by the mutha f**in' Bobcat
Ninety three s**as want me to go out
Throw the hoe out, b**h mutha f**er I'm rich
Tupac's in the mutha f**in' house
Tupac's in the mutha f**in' house
Tupac's in the mutha f**in' house
Tupac's in the mutha f**in' house
Tupac's in the mutha f**in' house
Got any last wordz
[Tupac]
Now they're after me, why? cuz a n***as black
Sit back
Ain't afraid to pull a triggar back
Let 'em come step to a real mutha-f**er
[Boom, Boom] Mama ain't raised no s**ers
Dan Quayle, don't you know you need to get your a** kicked
Where was you when there was n***as in the caskets?
Mutha-f**er rednecks all the same
Feel a real n***a if he ain't balled and chained
That's why we burn sh** and wreck
Cause the punk police ain't learned sh** yet
You mutha-f**as gonna pay the price
Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life
It's on, the next real n***a fall dead
Dred, jheri curl, process, or bald head
Be prepared for the smoke to bust
What n***as need to do is start loc'in up
United we stand divided we fall
They can shoot one n***a
But they can't take us alll
Let's get along with the Mexicans
And we can all have peace on the sets again
Imagine that if it took place [ha ha ha]
Keeping the smile off their white fakes
I ain't racist but lets trade places
Trace the hate 'n face it
One n***a teach two n***as
three teach four n***as
And them n***as teach more n***as
And when we blast
That'll be the biggest blast you've heard
And them is my last wordz