Ice Cube - Spittin' Pollaseeds lyrics

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