Lyrics:
lucky, my God! Flight of Icarus in those grubby dirty by now horribly sticky little fingers and
hands and grubby palms, and oh what else is grubby, I don't
From the very bottom
No love for VILLAINS
All the HERUZ shot'em
Stacking up the millions
I need every dollar
I'm starting a collection
Only baddies in
all the ice cubes on this wristwear in the big body
Live by the gun, get bodied or it's hella time in that cell
It was hella times where I failed,
the cards I'm dealt
These niggas can't admit it but they old news
Tryna hop on to my wave when they all snoozes
Chain up on my neck resemble ice cubes
I got
riding 'round
Hiding down, ducking strays from frustrated youths stuck in they ways
Just read a magazine that fucked up my day
How you rate music that
Exacerbated by the fact that my syntax
Is highly complicated 'cause I immigrated
From the single greatest little place in the Caribbean
Dominican Republic! I
playin' with the bands, like Dido (Dido)
I don't smoke weed, indoor by my lonely, like a widow (widow)
Ice cubes, pour me some more (oh), she pop like
you by half of you try
The other half of you fry, too high to actually fly
One day yall have to decide, who you gon be
A scary nigga or a nigga thats
to the chin, Ice Cube'll blast they ass til the end
With my pistol, runnin' from Da Lench Mob
Is how you survive in South Central
Kick the instrumental,
to the chin, Ice Cube'll blast they ass til the end
With my pistol, runnin' from Da Lench Mob
Is how you survive in South Central
Kick the instrumental,
at the blocka
Sixty by the railroad
Only having hot shit the green
Shit is too slow
Working Pete booth we gon add
It if you tryna roll
Bucket to the least son
nigga in the mirror
I'll I'm tryin' to is bark before I fight
Before I take you down, might as well be polite
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Ice Cube]
Now
in the air like you just don't care
You all get a share, there's a party over here
Year two-thousand, keep bouncin
T-Minus, thirty seconds
we live by the sword
Three, plus sixty degrees
Two, for the black and the blue
One, for the sun, step into millennium
As I walk in the shadow
love for my nigga named Screw
The Key-C's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
love for my nigga named Screw
The Key-C's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
they trap
So I'm tryna kill a rat Master Splinter
Thinking those were the days when
We roll to the raves there was so much heat
It was cold in the place
I say what I mean, I mean what I say
Bitch
Gone in sixty seconds, never let a bitch stress me (uh-uh)
Before the microphone, I made a milli' off
check they stance they frontin
I'm two seconds fromt wistin ya'll shit over nuttin
All a sudden ice grills kid you did a baby bid
In a minute almost
we live by the sword
Three, plus sixty degrees
Two, for the black and the blue
One, for the sun, step into millennium
As I walk in the shadow
the shop up
They try to stop em
My cash flow leave me asshole neck it
Gone in sixty seconds, burn all records
Nigga gettin' skinny eating dinnies
Westside Connection Ice Cube W.C. and Mack 10
Nigga y'all know the Westside is Bout It Bout It
It¹s the I N G L E here to trouble you, W double-oh
Exacerbated by the fact that my syntax
Is highly complicated 'cause I emigrated
From the single greatest little place in the Caribbean:
Dominican Republic!
[Chorus:]
It's like a hot day in July
Just bangin' when I fool guys
It's the credible, edible, federal when I'm high
On the hills on the lane
Sixty
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