Ice cube:
f** a ghost rider
Sittin in the back, of the studio
Tryin to write a n***a rap
It's the muppet show, most n***as need a&r(a&r)
To tell them how to f** a hoe
Ice Cube, true mc, write everything I say, even back in the day
Imma spit it, how i feel it, f** a gimmick
You can keep your catchy lines, Imma 'bout to write a rhyme
If you got backpack, tryin act black
Think you know the culture, you'z a f**in vulture
You never a approached the mic
You dress like a dike, sayin what you don't like
Who deserves five mics, who deserves two
But the n***a wit two still can serve you
This West Coast, flow is different in the East
But in ain't no different in the streets
Chorus:
I'm spittin pollaseeds
I crack'em one by one cause I don't want to be greedy
Cause the salt might make it so
I'm spittin pollaseeds
I crack'em one by one cause I don't want to be greedy
Cause, these n***as is salty
Will make you choke ohh oh
You n***as got me f**ed up
Ice Cube:
I'm spittin pollaseeds on the portch, with the torch
In case these n***as come around to see the Porsche
When I branish, motherf**ers vanish
They don't understand like a n***a speak in Spanish
No comprende, me no speak no enlgehh
Here a f**(smack)Now yo a** feelin' tingle
Now you doin sh** like Darrel Stingleeh
Don't get stung by the motherf**in sting ray
Keep it movin n***as, y'all better king me
Put your rap careers on eBay
Crazy toons is the motherf**in DJ
Baby drop to your knees, he deserves a BJ
I got a big brother, nicknamed CJ
When you see him in the hood take it eazy
If you a breezehh, take him to the heezehh
Do him like Halley Barry did Michael Eleehh
Chorus
Mike Epps:
I ain't playin
I got pulled over by the police
And i had some pollaseeds in my hand
The police pulled me over and said
Twenty-Seventeen, we got a young black n***a over here
Age eighteen, look like he thirty-five
Look like he drinkin a henesee, and smoke every night
I need back up
n***a might have a twenty-two with duck tape on the handle
WC:
Wit the twista
Hit ya, it's the chippa
Pistol grip, scip scippa, ready to finger rear view mirror
Ready to bust wit my bandanna bumpin oldies
Cube, throw me the line like golden the kobe
So i can bust a cripwalk on these n***as
Yellow tape, bark these n***as, f** all these salty n***as
They can't hold our sh**
Gangsta rap ain't dead, motherf**ers just stole our sh**
All y'all n***as now it's alamoni
All y'all did is switch yo name and ate a style up like raveolli
Own your club raps and pisses
Talk sh** I'll knock your Comm-A-Dee gla**es off ya face
Under the transmission n***a
From the West side, f**in up the program
Wit the surplus, Highly hangin up the blow hand
Dub-zizzala
Tippin on them drolics
And spiitin shells at you n***as like pollaseeds
Chorus