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Lirik Lagu Ice-T
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ICE-T – Warning

Attention!!
At this moment you are now listening to an Ice-T LP
If you are offended by words like:
Shit!! – Bitch!! – Fuck!! – Dick!! – Ass!! – Whore!! – Cum!!
Dirty Bitch!! – Low Motherfucker!! – Nigga!!
Hooker!! – Slut!! – Tramp!!
Dirty Low Slut!! – Tramp!! – Bitch!! – Whore!!
Nigga!! – Fuck!! – Shit!! – whatever..
Take the tape out NOW!
This is not a Pop album
And by the way; Suck my motherfucking Dick!!

ICE-T feat. Hot Dolla, L.P. & Powerlord Jel – Syndicate 4 Ever

[Opening Skit: Ice-T impersonating his player haters]
Yo nigga, where was you at last night? – talk nigga!
Yo nigga, we was up in that club nigga, them Syndicate niggaz turned that shit off
Nigga, fuck them bitch ass niggaz
Yeah, them niggaz got money, nigga
Fuck all them Syndicate niggaz, them niggaz ain’t shit
Yeah!
Motherfuckers think they make shit cause them motherfuckers got a little bit of money and shit
True, man
Fuck that bitch-ass yellow-nigga Ice-T too
I don’t like that nigga
Nigga had no motherfucking father, Fuck Him!
Fuck them niggaz, right?
Niggaz don’t wanna see me, wanna see my motherfucking.. [Screeching Tires]
Yo, what the fuck is that?… [Gun Shots]

[Verse 1: L.P.]
Now, nigga nigga nigga nigga nigga nigga please
I scratch emcees like dog scratch flees
Grease, your competition, never finishing
Indo keep me high and I’m always on a mission
When it comes to kick it, AWWW I get the lowest
Bang like George Foreman, kick ass like Chuck Norris
Only fucking winner with these fools selling Gucci
Whispering MC H, just like Crispy down with Cooci
So those who wanna step into the steel like bleaks
Come get this lyrical ass whipping that’s gonna last for weeks
We got grease, Hardcore Hip-Hop gangster beats
Niggaz that’ll do you’ll leave you dead in the street
Recognize through this, this is how we do this
Barrel to your motherfucking back oozes [Gun Shot]
It’s your lyrical rock Syndicate killer, and fuck all niggaz

[Chorus: Powerlord JEL]
Now you wanna fuck with us, cause you recognize game
You recognize real motherfucker
Syndicate forever, Posse of the clever – [Ice-T]
Now you wanna fuck with us, cause you recognize game
You recognize some real motherfucker
Syndicate forever, Posse of the clever – [Ice-T]

[Verse 2: Hot Dolla]
The Rhyme Syndicate will never die, well let me tell you why
Cause we’re locs that’s always on a Ho-Ride
If you hear me, then I know you know that danger
I snatch mics from emcees, I move around with anger
Behavior of the maniac, that’s all I’ve had in me
Bombs’ll get brutal when I lock my mind, it’s empty
Simply I’m in this, but Gangster found that Genus
The one last murderer that never served the sentence
Wise up than an Asian, that’s holding to his books
I love them ghetto crooks, gave my banging for a hook
Now I’m much much longer when my pops was stupid flexed
I wanna get hex and bitches fuck with my set
Don’t let 95 patty, produce it like a hearse
These such fucking little punks, they think they down cause they curse, man
Fuck you motherfuckers, you ain’t shit, you ain’t crazy
Cause Rhyme Syndicate be doing dirt on the daily

[Chorus: Powerlord JEL]

[Verse 3: Powerlord JEL]
Can I be destroyed? Like Roy with two niggaz long enough
Now, I’m strong enough, to bust out handcuffs
Return of the rough, and rugged, so fuck it!
Rolling in a bucket, tracking down my dockets
It’s a fact that I be busting, fools lusting
Throwing fools away like wind dusting
Hand rushing, like Head Hunters, so I hunt heads
Leaving fools dead in a red, hear me what I said
It’s the Syndicate, I yelled from the day we call Eternity
Picture of all busters who ain’t heard of it
I’m burning it with dealers, killers
Cars stealers, cap peelers, big wheelers
Cool like the Chin Chilla, living in a villa
So nigga pass the Nillas
And let me take you back to the days of Crokersacs and Cadillacs
When niggaz broke their backs on the street to make ends meet
We roll deep; in a late night hour on the..

[Chorus: Powerlord JEL until faded]

ICE-T feat. Marc Live – Step Your Game Up

Yeah, this is Iceberg
Time for me to reinforce some of this pimping, baby

[Chorus: Ice-T X2]
Players, hustlers, girls; step your game up!
Maximize your hustle; step your game up!
No time for fooling around; step your game up!
Get your money, get your paper; step your game up!

[Ice-T]
Yeah, niggaz out there shitting on the game
Mark Live is a motherfucking shame, representing
You’re still star grims; step your chrome game up!
Motorola pager; step this phone game up!
Still living with your mother; step your home game up!
Girl, you ain’t going down; step your dome game up!
Spin has being played out; step your wheel game up!
Two inch pumps; bitch, step your heel game up! (Bitch!)
Still wearing white gold; step your jewel game up!
You ain’t fully automatic; step your tool game up!
Ice, Ice, berg nigga word!
Anybody stepping to my rep, it’s absurd
You wanna roll with me bitch, have a nerve to the curb
No I’m not your man, just the best that ever
Mastered the game, baby, Berg’s the name
From my niggaz, get your paper, gangsters hating the fame
And keep your hustle cracking, living off the lames
Nigga, if you ain’t moving fast, get the fuck out the lane

[Chorus: Ice-T with minor variations]
And all the players, hustlers, girls; step your game up!
Maximize your hustle; step your game up!
No time for fooling around; step your game up!
Get your money, get your paper; step your game up!

Players, hustlers, girls; step your game up!
Maximize your hustle; step your game up!
No time for fooling around; step your game up!
Get your money, get your paper; step your game up!

[Ice-T]
Yeah, you niggaz got these bitches walk around here in these flat shoes
Bitch you gotta come out that low years to get in some whore years
This is pop your dollar, hot dollar pimping
Bitch pimp game, watch

[Ice-T]
Still drinking Moët; step your Cris game up!
Car getting kind of old; step your whip game up!
No links in your cuffs; step your sleeve game up!
Tracks getting kind of loose; bitch, step your weave game up!
Can’t get a hit record; step your rap game up!
Can’t holler at no shorty; step your Mack game up!
Your grill looking kind of bad; step your tooth game up!
Still standing in lines; step your juice game up! (Fuck! lying)

[Mark Live]
You never been on a red carpet, fatigued up
HUH! GTs ever since with keys
Worked a hundred mill’ black cars, drunk in Brasil’
Missing for days, re-appear back on the Spain
Levity, over niggaz, magician like David Blaine
Full link minks, chicks buying my links (HUH!)
Diamond types, shop gator at Diamond Life
Forget your world nigga, step your shit up

[Chorus: Ice-T X2]

[Ice-T]
Oh! shit, I done step into another weak pit
You’re still dressing like a bum; step your suit game up!
Your toes freezing in the winner; step your boot game up!
Your bank role looking little; step your green game up!
No Plasma TV; step your screen game up!
Still flying coach; step your class game up!
Girl, you’re looking kind of skinny; step your ass game up!
Your wheel chairs ain’t heated; step your seat game up!
Niggaz said they gonna kill me; better step your street game up!

[Mark Live]
Yo, we’re hell of pork eating, gone streamed out (Yeah!)
You’re Metro, car, bus path, shut your fucking mouth

[Ice-T]
Step in my car, and go by the detour on
This is a man’s game, fool, not a boy’s one

[Mark Live]
Yo, no one can get at us, we’re straddlers fear
Over the top executive, out of here, shit on you, bloods

[Ice-T]
Step up your game player, lift up your lips player
Get up your clips player, your life is a lie

[Mark Live]
Yo, we mess with all money, you got some clothes money
We’re hiding raw money, overseas old money

[Ice-T]
You won’t win, you’re lost before you begin
Your hustle ain’t deep, your bitch is steady on a dream

[Mark Live]
Yo, don’t speak, just learn, look, listen
When we come through, take cover, game is over

[Ice-T]
Stop asking me questions, your idea is whack
Your brain storms a bum as lame, step up your game

[Chorus: Ice-T]

ICE-T feat. Emanon – Somebody Gotta Do It (Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy!!!) (12″ Mix)

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
My lifestyle is crazy, I’m luxury lazy
So much gold; that jewelry don’t faze me
Cordless phone, eight or nine homes
Girlies on my Jammie with an Ice-T Jones
Bank account booming, fast lane zooming
Known around the world for my high post grooming
Macks like a preacher, loves like a teacher
Got a girl lives in Paris, when I want her I beep her
Too many clothes, got a rag top Rolls
1.000 Watt System, and my speakers are Bose®
I kick it like a champ, I throught you knew it
Though pimping ain’t easy; but somebody gotta do it

[Interlude #1:]
[Emanon] Yo Ice, they want you to be on Lifestyle for Rich and Famous
[Ice-T:] Man, hang up on that fool!
[Emanon] Yo Ice, what you’re doing with that fourth cord on the floor
[Ice-T:] Homeboy, that’s the carpet man!
[Emanon] Yo man, what you’re doing with all this money, all over this floor man?
[Ice-T:] Get the vaccum, dude!
[Emanon] Yo man, there’s ten girls waiting in the bedroom
[Ice-T:] They been there for a week, another day won’t hurt!

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
My thumbs are tired, just from counting cash
No more room in my diamond stash
Filing my nails is such a tiring task
Gold knobs in my Benzo dash
Five freaks just to comb my hair
Monograms on my underwear
Bodyguards around so please don’t dare
You’re taking a chance, if you just stop and stare
Living my life is just so hard to do
Making deals, a million one or two
Buying new cars for my entire crew
Matching Ferraris, E’s black, mine is blue
Can’t swing a lap in my pool because it’s just too long
Could never go broke because my bank is too strong
No matter what I do, I simply can’t go wrong
And I’ll make money, I don’t need this damned song
But somebody’s gotta do it

[Interlude #2:]
[Emanon] You want this rope, but that go one ten thousand one’s twenty
[Ice-T:] Yo, I don’t care man, put it on the dog man!
[Emanon] Yo Ice, what you’re gonna do, we got a house on Parsberg, half built
[Ice-T:] Man, I don’t like it no more, tear it down, I don’t need no more houses!
[Emanon] Yo Ice, Gucci, Louie and Fila wanna sponser you
[Ice-T:] Man, I told you, I don’t need no more clothes
[Emanon] Man!!

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
When I walk in a joint, punks always look at me hard
Because I wear enough gold to tie a dog in a yard
Cold maxing in my mansion, so big it’s silly
Got a butler named Humphry and a maid named Milly
Mink sheets on my bed, that’s what I said
Gourmet chefs in my kitchen so that I can get fed
So tired of sailing on my boat I might..
just Helicopter to my Jet and catch a midnight flight
So many girls in my book, it weighs a ton
Gotta leave the damned country just to have some fun
Private suite at the track to watch the ponies run
And there ain’t nothing in the world that me and E ain’t done
But somedody’s gotta do it

[Outro:]
[Emanon] Yo Ice, it’s Brandal Rays man, he wants to know can he hang out with you and E
[Ice-T:] Man, would you tell that fool! to get off my jamie man
[Emanon] Yo yo yo Ice, your homeboy at Marker Show just caught up, wants to borrow some more money
[Ice-T:] No Problem! small thing to a gaint, cause somedody gotta do it!!

ICE-T feat. Feddi de Marco – Ridin’ Low

[Feddi] Ohhh! Uhh.. Yeah!!
[Ice-T] It’s going down, baby
[Feddi] It feels good, man
[Ice-T] Feddi De Marco
[Feddi] Uhh.. stop feeling different music, man
[Ice-T] Uhh.. Iceberg, kid
[Feddi] I’m Cali’ tipping, man
[Ice-T] Yeah!
[Feddi] Uhh, just get by the mic and just start..
[Ice-T] Yo Feddi, how you’re riding, baby?

[Verse 1: Feddi De Marco]
Uhha, I’m in a Starburst 64 riding low
On them gold Daytonas and I’m sliding slow
You ain’t nothing like me, so what you’re eying me for?
That bitch you’re with looking, keep your eye in your whore
It’s all about Feddi, when the Chevy raised
With a bitch on the blade, to keep me heavy paid
Black seven trey, blue bandanna
Dipped in search, looking for jewels like it’s owned by Santayana
Great pounds down the zones and a bag of grand zag
Raw ounce and; I’m sure bouncing, yeah, forty ounce
And liquor pour like water fountains
For all the late night body counting
This nigga got the urge and the tendency
To do with me, seventeen upwards in a key (Damn!)
With my blood, bitch I’m sleeping with the enemy (Shit!)
I call that bomb pussy off the Hennessey
Differ the mode, same old shit
You’re slipping, who hit you? – the same old bitch
She caught pimping, when I’m flipping cocaine bricks
More bounce to the ounce that gold frame lifts so..

[Chorus #1: Ice-T]
I’m in that Bentley GT riding low
Twenty four CTCs and I’m sliding slow
You ain’t nothing like me, so what you’re eying me for?
That bitch you’re with looking, keep your eye in your whore

[Chorus #2: Feddi De Marco]
I’m in a Starburst 64 riding low
On them gold Daytonas and I’m sliding slow
You ain’t nothing like me, so what you’re eying me for?
That bitch you’re with looking, keep your eye in your whore

[Verse 2: Feddi De Marco]
Living in a Coupe De West, gotta keep a sniff in the vest
Cause you can’t [?] on the stretch
Rotten Khaki and Denim, Fuck! them excellent mats
I got bitches, the ones who blow the whistles the best (OHHH!)
Yes, I keep the heels clicking, til I get a meal ticket
Bitch can’t get nothing from feel different, real pimping
Banging Notorious, ablution nigga, who shot you?
No! it’s more like who killed you nigga?

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
I don’t know why, but I’m so damn fly
Why you’re staring at my whips nigga, they’re easy to buy
Put your bitch out on the corner, pop her ass in the air
Get her head game cracking, but you’re probably care (So)
I’m; a BullGuard gripped the wood grain hard
Baby, ride with my niggaz like we’re still in the yard
Gangsters, Bloods and Crips, all about my chips
My Continental is so low that it scrapes in the dips (UHH!)

[Chorus #1: Ice-T]

[Chorus #2: Feddi De Marco]

[Verse 4: Ice-T]
You can’t see me, can’t touch me – don’t bother
I bust nuts back in the eighties, probably your father
Everything I ride is low, dropped to the ground
Ask your bitch about me, tightest nigga in town
I park treys in my front yard, riding the grass
Light up your whole block, drop the ass
I pressure gates, fool, convertible roof
Nowadays, catch me in that Bentley coupe
I love looking out my tint, at you haters on the curb
Punk ass, get your weight up, get some crack and serve
I might swerve into another lane, fucking with my Navy
Cops can’t pull me over, cause I never touched the Cavi’
Iceberg, I roll rims through the suburbs
You hear shots, that’s Feddi and Watts
Straight pimping baby, play the whole bubble for real
Y’all simping, while I’m twisting on my GT wheel

[Chorus #1: Ice-T]

[Chorus #2: Feddi De Marco]

[Ice-T]
Ohh! yo, Feddi my nigga, let me ride that four, man
I feel like tickling them switches man

[Feddi] There’s no problem
[Ice-T] Yeah, nigga
[Feddi] It’s behind that Range, nigga
[Ice-T] Yeah, you know you can roll, nigga
[Feddi] I know that
[Ice-T] Throw me them keys, here you go
[Feddi] That’s right
[Ice-T] Easy on the dips, my shit is low baby
[Feddi] I know nigga, you don’t do shit nigga, I got you

ICE-T feat. DV Alias Kryst – Real Talk

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
Yo, whose that fly nigga rocking the mic?
Hold up, no, it can’t be what it sound like
I’ve thought that nigga left the game years ago
I’ve seen him in People Madness with bad white whore
I’ve seen him flossing rips on a covered Dub
I’ve seen him with some Arabs in the back of the club
I heard that every word that he says is real
He used to take young bitches and then teach them to steal
Heard him pimp as a Bishop, played the whole bubble
For the word Ya-yo, maybe come back double
I met him once, nigga, shot me the real
He said get your paper player, fuck how they feel
Lean to the ankles baby, gator to the floor
Respect real niggaz, never trust the whore
When you bust, squeeze the trigger ’til it motherfucker glow
Then he said his name is Ice and he hit the door
That’s real talk!

[Chorus: Kryst X2]
Real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
It’s real talk, Reeeeeaaaaal talk (It’s real talk!)

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
I heard he went to Crenshaw, roll with the cribs
I heard he made millions hitting cutey licks
Then I heard that the nigga had roots in the East
I heard the nigga’s whole motherfucking fam’s deceased
He started all that shit out ‘Fuck the Police’
He really don’t care, carrys gats and pares
I know he’s in his forties, I was just a child
When a nigga came out and sent the game buckwild
Real niggaz know that he’s not no joke
Black Raiders Beanie and them liquor store locs
Not to even mention his folks
Cali’ niggaz hitting switches on them Hundred Spokes
I read in an interview, he said he was done
Then he comes with this fly shit back on the one
But I heard he’s never happy and the nigga’s so upset
That he jacks off my money then he fucks his bitch
That’s real talk!

[Chorus: Kryst X2]

[Interlude: Kryst]
Ummmm.. got no habitation to a whore
Cause in the streets, I gotta get it Ice cold
Now that’s real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
Ummmm.. uhhhmm.. Yeaahhh!! Yeaahhh!!

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
A blandness name is Coco when she carrys the gat
Green eyes, big titties and that ass is fat
Clean to the nigga, not impressed with rap
To the side, if you try then she covers his back
Seen them once in the champ, no posse, no crew
Coco wears a mean shoe, it was just them two
They shared in the back, everyone knew was true
They was doing it the way that we’re all wanted to do
I heard that nigga don’t sleep for days
Writes poetry all night and reach experience plays
No clothes off the rack, everything is made
Don’t drink hard liquor, just the great Kool-Aid
Straight Gangster but got no beef
Nobody talking down on his name in the street
Has chips air tight, and his game is elite
He’s just the type of player that I aimed to be
That’s real talk!

[Chorus: Kryst X2]

[Outro: Kryst]
Real Talk, got my name in the streets
Talking about me, saying how much they love me
But no one ever hold me through this game
Cause every where I go, I keep hearing my name
Yeaahhh!! Yeaahhh! gotta keep it gangster
Ohhh.. yeah, I keep it gangster
Ummmm.. got no habitation to a whore
Cause in the streets, I gotta get it Ice cold
Now that’s real talk, real talk, real talk, real talk
Ummmm.. uhhhmm.. Yeaahhh!! Yeaahhh!!

ICE-T – Real?

Ice-T six; Return of the Real!
Real is a word people don’t really wanna deal with
Real is a difference between the way things should be
And they way things are!
Things should be beautiful and everybody should get along
Things are really fucked up!
Opportunity isn’t available to everybody
Motherfuckers do to jail
Men and women do not always get along
A woman doesn’t think twice about referring to her man as a dog
But then breaks down when she is called a Bitch
That’s really fucked up! – Real!
The first four letters in reality; You’re Ready To Get There!
That’s what this is all about
A lot of my homies are really incarcerated, locked up!
In Federal Penitentiaries and State Institutions will never come home
This album is dedicated to them
And my homies that have died and passed on in the past few years
Really never get a chance to hear this record
My music is designed for the individuals out there
who are ready to deal with the truth
The truth is; that anything that is alive
It do whatever it has to do, to remain alive
It’s called survival
And no matter how cold and fucked up it may seen
That’s real!

ICE-T feat. Dee – Rap Is Fake

[Dee:] Ice, I would like to ask you a few questions!
[Ice-T] Yeah, yeah, what is it? – what is it? Come on
[Dee:] Is it true, that you and your organization still have under world connections?
[Ice-T] Haa, absolutely not! – where did you get that information from?
[Dee:] Is it a fact, that most of your lyrics were true?
[Ice-T] Noh, it’s all fantasies, you know, you just make the stuff up, rap is fake!

[Dee:]
Ummm.. well, government officials still say
That you’re connected with major crime figures?

[Ice-T]
I don’t know what they talk about, it’s a joke!
I make movies, I make records

[Dee:]
So you swear to the public and deny any and all criminal ties?
Even though, your music states other wise!

[Ice-T]
Absolutely! I mean totally legit
Never done anything wrong, you know what I’m saying?
It’s all a fantasy, that it’s making the stuff up
You know, cause I’m a black man, they’re trying to keep me down!
Hey, I’m totally innocent, you know what I’m saying?
Give me a break for life!

ICE-T feat. DJ Evil E the Great – Our Most Requested Record

[Opening Skit: Evil E as Mickael]
[Phone beeped]
Come On!! pick up the phone, it’s getting out my bubble
I got to hear this new song.. he he he!!

[Phone beeped]

[Ice-T as a Radio Request Line employee]
Yo, what’s up? Request Line

[Evil E as Mickael]
Yes, this is Mickael, I’d like to hear that new song about.. AWWHHH.. Ice-T
I don’t know the name of it but AWWHHH.. it’s bad!

[Ice-T as a Radio Request Line employee]
Don’t worry about that homeboy, we’re about to rock it
That’s our most requested record

[Song's Intro]
[Ice-T] Yo E, what’s up man? they got our record on the radio boyyyy!!
[Evil:] Yo man, they’re rocking our stuff, Ice man
[Ice-T] I’m telling you man, this is the Most Requested Record, everybody wants to hear this record
[Evil:] It’s for everybody, you gotta throw this stuff by respect.. what you think?
[Ice-T] I know, you know what time it is, it’s flying high
[Evil:] Let me do..
[Ice-T] I’ma tell them what’s up!
[Evil:] Yo Ice man, tell them boys what time it is ~

[Ice-T]
Yo, one two, my name is Ice-T, I’m hear to let you know Rhyme Syndicate is in effect
And where ever we go, me and my posse gets stupid respect (YEAH!!)
But good jerking this on juice, YEAHH!! just because where we’re staying
But I’m here to let you know L.A. don’t take no mess, understand what I’m saying?
Yo, this is the Most Requested Record, New York loves to hear this record boyy!!

[Evil:] Yo man, Chicago loves this jamie, man
[Ice-T] Detroit can’t live without this record, man
[Evil:] Yo, Memphis likes this jamie man
[Ice-T] Miami wants to hear this record, and how they gonna say we ain’t got beats?
We got Afrika Islam man, kick the swings up the hits
[Evil:] Kick it A!!
[Ice-T] There it go boy, you know that swing is so fly!
[Evil:] Awww Yeah, you know the flavor my man
[Ice-T] And I wanna let you know the publicity charm
Well, this is coming from Los Angles, you know what I’m saying?
[Evil:] Yeah, L.A.’s in effect, you know what I’m saying?
[Ice-T] L.A. got it going on, but what does it matter where it’s from?
You just listened to the beat of the drum, you know, and we’re swinging out here in California, Yeah!!
[Evil:] Awww YEAH!!!
[Ice-T] But they say that STILL ain’t fly enough E
[Evil:] Yo, what’s up with them chumps Ice man, they don’t understand the beats man
[Ice-T] I think they wanna hear some 8OA, some boom boom!!
[Evil:] Boom boom!! Aww man, let’s hit them the boom boom man?
[Ice-T] Low temple, you know…
[Evil:] Old 8OA man, they don’t know about that man
[Ice-T] Temps and flavor
[Evil:] Yo, let’s give it some flavor, we’re gonna take the bass, man
[Ice-T] I don’t know man, I hope they’re ready, let’s change the temple!!

[BOTH:] AAAWWWW!! YEAHH BOYY!! it’s a big world
[Evil:] Awww! what you know about that?
[Ice-T] We did it fly now!!
Run the Power Moves on them -> [Bushwick Bill]
[Ice-T] Awww Yeah, Evil-E and Ice-T in here
trying to do one tip for all the ladies out there, what we’re trying to do, E?
Run the Power Moves on them -> [Bushwick Bill]
[Ice-T] Yeah, you’re knowing, all the posse deafly loves it, right?
[Evil:] Yo, yo, yo, yo.. yeah!!
Run the Power Moves on them -> [Bushwick Bill]
[Ice-T] L.A. loves it, you know, we’re kicking it man
[Evil:] We’re chilling, cold stupid in the place boyyy!!
[Ice-T] Yeah, what?.. what?..

[L.A.P.D]
Attention the inside!! This is L.A.P.D
Turn the music down; or we’re coming inside
This is L.A.P.D!!

[Ice-T] Awww man, I told you.. I told you not to play the record so loud
[Evil:] Yo Ice, I won’t man
[Ice-T] All these.. aww man.. y’all.. hit the back door fellows..
[Evil:] Awww man, but I got a warrant man
[Ice-T] Wait a minute.. hold it.. hold it.. looks like they’re leaving man
[Evil:] Leaving?!!! WORD!!
[Ice-T] Forget the police man, turn the music back on man!!

[Ice-T] Yo, they knew better than coming here
[Evil:] Yeah, Word word man, they knew better than that, cause my boys are in here
[Ice-T] We’re just having fun, but they BETTER not coming through the door
[Evil:] BETTER not man, BETTER not
[Ice-T] You know what? all the people out there wanna know exactly who we are
We’ve been talking, but they still wanna know who we are!
[Evil:] Who you are Ice man?
[Ice-T] Yo E, throw the jamie on, show them who we are, kick it!
[Evil:] Bet man, bet it..

[Break: Evil E Scratching and cutting quotes below]
I.. I.. I.. I.. I.. Ice-T UHH! -> [Ice-T]
I.. I.. I.. I.. I.. Ice-T -> [Ice-T]
E.. E.. E.. Evil.. Evil E UHH! -> [Evil E]
I.. I.. I.. I.. I.. Ice-T UHH! -> [Ice-T]
I.. I.. I.. I.. I.. Ice-T -> [Ice-T]
E.. E.. E.. Evil.. Evil E -> [Evil E]
FLY!! -> [Ice-T]
I.. I.. I.. I.. I.. Ice-T UHH! -> [Ice-T]
I.. I.. I.. I.. I.. Ice-T -> [Ice-T]
E.. E.. E.. Evil.. Evil E UHH! -> [Evil E]

[Evil:]
Yo Ice man, yo man, they don’t understand about that fly Rap man
Why don’t you throw them a fly jamie man

[Ice-T:]
Word! thinking of a demo, late nights alone in my lemo
Not a Pictum my man, I’m talking black sadan
Stretched like a fine truck, E counts the grants
My plan; write a rhyme like nobody can
Totally unpredictable, understand? (WORD!!)
Talent is mine, but the judgement is yours
You vibe my records, my crew tours (YEAH!!)
You make request in my sale sore
You clear the shelves of the record store (UHH!!)
Soft core I’m not, but knowledge I got
I keep my posse in effect when I rock the spot
Grand hot, or maybe you forgot
You should’ve cracked the jams early before the cops block the lights
Mack magnifier, Hitman for hire
Drop when I fire, watch the guard wire
Ice ain’t no lier, I’m never retire
Cause my back went [?] with young troops I inspire
Cold as nitrogen and fold as hydrogen
Thought you had a chance to wax, you better try again
Hip-Hop commando, Bum Rush Rambo (UHH!!)
Intelligence is my weapon, dum dump my ammo
It’s okay plea it, call it as you see it
I’m from L.A. ~ this joint is like Viet-nam gangs illing
Wilding and killing, bars on your door please protect your children
I ain’t no bad guy though suckers may try, they say I’m violent WHY?!!
Because I’m fly, got girls to date, therefore
Don’t wanna hear no more, chauffeurs shut the damned door (WORD!!)
Cause I’m a player, I ain’t no Beat-boy
I love the ladies and money is my real joy

[Break:]
[Evil:] Word Them Up! Yeah, I know that was down, yeah, you know the poetry was deaf
[Ice-T] Yeah E
[Evil:] You know, just kick a little poetry for my posse Rhyme Syndicate in here
[Ice-T] Hell yeah!! yeah baby, Beatmaster V rocking the drums
[Evil:] Yeah, and my man Afrika Islam is on the drum
[Ice-T] Charlie Jam boy, you know that, BG is in effect
[Evil:] YEAH, XT, Gustie G
[Ice-T] King Quality man, E-Mack Boy, E-Dubb
[Evil:] Yeah, you know what I’m saying? E-A-SKi in the house
[Ice-T] Yeah, Nat the Cat, D-Rock-ing a funky beat
[Evil:] Yeah, and my man Mike, Mike Love, my man Hen-Gee are stood out there baby pal

[Ice-T:] DAT the Most Requested Record, if you don’t play this record; you’ll be sorry
My whole crew is gonna come down and have to..
run a bum rush on you, you know, the same stuff took a round, you know what I’m saying?
Some [?] and all that fly stuff, you know, this is what you want, the beat
This is what you want to Rap, this is what you want
Ice-T and DJ Evil E, 1988, taking no [?] yeah boy

[Evil:] Taking out all simps and suckers, y’all know the flavor, No Time
[Ice-T] The Most Requested Record, everybody loves this record, Red Alert
[Evil:] Yeaaahhh, this for my man Chuck, you know what time it is Chuck
[Ice-T] Houston wanna to hear this record
[Evil:] L.A. knows what time it is.. ha ha!

[Closing Skit:]
[Phone beeped]

[Nancy]
They will never pick up the phone, you’re stupid!!

[Rodney]
There I go again Nancy, can’t you see I’m trying to get through?
Just calm down like a Sugar Brown

[Phone beeped]

[Ice-T as a Radio Request Line employee]
Yo, what’s up? Request Line

[Rodney]
Yes, this is your homeboy Rodney from DC, wearing red, white and blue
I’ve been trying to get through, me and Nancy just wowed about that little song from Ice-T
We don’t know the name of it but if you play it, we’ll be more than happy

[Ice-T as a Radio Request Line employee]
Don’t worry about it homeboy, we’ve just rocked it but we’ll rock it again
Cause that’s our most requested record!

ICE-T feat. SLJ – Mixed Up

Oh! Yeah, nineteen ninety three
Ice motherfucking T in the place, you know what I’m saying?
Cold lounging with my nigga SLJ from Wrecked Dialect
You know what I mean? (YEAH!!) melt microphone screams
Have to turn this motherfucker out, you know what I’m saying?

[SLJ] Yep, digging a profile
[Ice] Yeah, check the technique whore, ha ha, I’ma do this
[SLJ] Brave Guts!!

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
One, two, three, it’s time to flip with the O.G. gangster
Banger, underground slanger of the murderous rhymes your moms hates
HUH! mother fuck the K.K.K. and Darrel Gates
Give me the microphone now, goddamn it, so I can blow it
Throw it, rip it, wreck it, pimp it, whore it (YEAH!!)
I’m about to take the fuck up, with this bullshit
Full clips spray from the hands of this convict
I’m not no nice nigga, I’m known not to smile at no bitch
How to think; whores be thinking about getting rich!
I love these whores like money
Back on the streets, on a track the Iceberg Cheque plenty (WORD!!)
I got a bullet with your name on it, you want it?
Knock your grill, I’ll fill it with golden ponant
Oh! my God, these niggaz hard, call the Bomb Squad
Too late, I detonate, I beliderate three states, GONE!! (BOOM!!)
I play Russian Roulette all alone
You got me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!
You got me mixed up with a nigga that gives a FUCK!!

[Verse 2: SLJ]
How many emcees do I have to rot? (ROT!!)
How many suckers do I have to drop? (DROP!!)
How many tampers do I have to plot? (PLOT!!)
Count them, how many rounds are in the glock? (GLOCK!!)
Niggaz wanna test me, stress me
Well, they can’t handle this shit that kick, and that’s it
Cause they can’t catch the feat, that comes with the cleat
Or an A.K. that I shot last week
Cause niggaz on the Ave, don’t really know the half
of my shit, so watch if, you might get stabbed
By the Rap plaque, who was trying to get paid
In this tray, and any nigga stepped gets sprayed
UHH!! by the verbal-lyrical, mystical, spirit-ual
Sucker play me wrong, now watch me get physical
I can’t give a fuck about the punk ass cops
I got a glock with the infrared dot on it’s knot (POP!!)

[Chorus:]
[SLJ] Don’t get me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!
[Ice] Don’t get him mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!!
[Ice] Don’t get me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!!!
[SLJ] Ice, get on the mic and buck buck!

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
I fall in hate the way motherfuckers fall in love
I blew it in the sky as up above
But I’m in the gang no more, slang ‘kane no more
Step to me wrong and your jaw meets a cobra (HUH!!)
I don’t give a fuck about nobody
Listen, if you like me, I love you, you hate me
I’m dissing them; suckers, bitches, busters, whores
Can catch a bozack chased by a head crack
I love the duckings throughout these ghetto alleys by myself
Dressed in black so I’m stealth
Keep by glock beside me, Ski-Mask to hide me
And if I’m out to kill then now the assaults get by me (YEAH!!)
Niggaz wanna flip but I’m the wrong male
With the wrong hands, I thought you’re in fact, the young shorts foreman
Let’s go back to the old shit, old style
Ice motherfucking T on the mic buckwild (YEAH!!)

[Chorus:]
[SLJ] Don’t get me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!
[Ice] You got me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!!
[Ice] You got me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!!
[SLJ] SLJ, get on the mic and destruct!! (YEAH!!)

[Verse 4: SLJ]
Now watch me, grip up, zip up, split off suckers’ heads
Who thought that I was soft (HUH!!) cause it’s ninety three
It’s time for me, to get a fat Cheque, ain’t that right boss? (YEP!!)
Cause this game is strange, it’s just may change back to chains
Caressing ankles back to brains
Cause it’s backdoor, once again to the end
At this time, you might know whose your friends
So watch your back, and the sounds of the clack
Like other fool just succumbs to, who carries a gat (PING!!)
Who’s scheming, fiending, remember he’s a demon
Looking for the brothers who be straight disagreeing
Cause if he haven’t heard, who tried to dis the Iceberg
Last year, this year, we still no fear
Because we drop Ammo, that niggaz couldn’t handle
And after this blunt we still beget another scandal (YEAH!!)

[Verse 5: Ice-T]
Check the hood, check the hood for some real Gs
So many suckers, I need some niggaz to roll with me
To kick up some dust, drive-by and bust
I love God but it’s in GLOCK! I fucking trust
I got a fucking Souleaf in my damn brain
And the shit is dripping out, I’m damn near insane
I don’t wanted to, but I gotta, and I shot her, then I chopped her
Then I packed her, then I stuffed her, then I rocked her (YEAH!!)
The bitch is so fucking good anyway
Snitched on my boys to the motherfucking D-E-A
What’s up? – You wanna try to focus your sights on the Mic
This nigga can flip scripts all night
Yeah, I wreck shit nice, the microphone smokes like Tri-ice
Bang nigga, bang nigga, I’m a known gang figure
Killed so many bodies, need to make my trunk bigger (HUH!)
Dig a shallow grave on the side of the freeway
Yo, I don’t play and I’m ready to die today

[Outro: Ice-T]
Don’t get me mixed up with a nigga that gives a fuck!
Don’t get us mixed up with the niggaz that give a fuck!
Don’t get us mixed up with some niggaz that give a fuck!
Don’t get us mixed up with some niggaz that give a fuck!
YEAAAAAHHHH!! – Motherfucker!!
The Syndicate’s in the motherfucking house!
Word them up!

ICE-T feat. DJ Ace as G-Money – It’s Goin’ Down

Now how does it feel to make love to a G?
Do you wanna go back to your man or, baby stay here with me?
Now how does it feel to make love to a G?
Strictly on the West Side where I ride
Now, baby, come roll with me

[Ice-T as Nino Brown]
Awww yeah, right there girl
Oh shit, awww, oh shit!
Who the fuck is that?

[DJ Ace as G-Money]
Yo Ice, yo this is Ace
Is the phone cool?

[Ice-T as Nino Brown]
Yeah, what the fuck is up?

[DJ Ace as G-Money]
Yo, the murder shit that happened last week
Some motherfuckers was trying to say: it was you!

[Ice-T as Nino Brown]
Awww shit

[DJ Ace as G-Money]
Man, I’m just calling, just to let you know Ese
That shit is going down homes!

[Ice-T as Nino Brown]
Stop Bitch!

ICE-T – Ice-O-Tek

T is dogging the WAX!!
Word!! Word!!

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
My name is Ice-T!!
My name is Ice-T!!
Bass!! Bass!!
Word!! Word!! Word!!
Dogging the WAX!!
Rock it then, cool!!

[Techno Music Break for: 30 seconds]

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
My name is Ice-T!!
My name is Ice-T!!
Bass.. bass.. Girls feel the bass rock
Rock it then!! Rock it then! Rock it then!!
Rock it then!! Rock it then! Rock it then!!
Rock it then!! Rock it then!!
T is dogging the WAX!!
Word!! Word!!

[Techno Music Break for: 50 seconds]

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
Bass.. bass.. Girls feel the bass rock
Rock it then!! Rock it then!!
Rock it then!! Rock it then!!
Word!! Word!!
My name is Ice-T!!
My name is Ice-T!!
Bass.. bass.. Girls feel the bass rock
Dogging the WAX!!
Dogging the WAX!!

ICE-T – Iceapella

Suckers step back, reacting his attack
Evil E is the place, cold dogging the WAX!!

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
All punks go for your mothers, today’s today
I’m here to say Warriors come out and play
Rhine for your lives, weak run and hide
My name is Ice-T, L.A. is where I reside
Fly as a bird, also awesome unheard
If you bite I will take your life best believe that’s word
FBI’s most wanted, but them suckers can’t stop
Mean rapping mother, terrorizing Khadafi
Few tried to match the deaf raps I wrote
Dis my rhyme that’s the time; razor meets your throat
Born in New Jersey but raised in L.A.
Streets such as hard and the player still play
Far from a fag, getting paid for my brag
So if you wanna come and battle bring a bodybag
Definitely deadly and that ain’t no Todd – [LL Cool J]
And if you don’t like what I’m saying, we can take it outside
Cause ain’t nothing like a squabble cause you know that’s fine
And if knife be your reason, then Uzi be mine
So all punks get ill cause you know I’m goner
Rhymes that ignite by like a piranha
Ice-T is just rocking the tracks
And Evil E is in the place, just dogging the WAX!!

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
I love the ladies who were down with the Tee
But what I hate and I state is a fool MC
You wanna battle the Ice, you gotta be insane
One step toward my repping, I inflict the pain
Got so many raps, I got no place to store them
Got so many damn pages, I can wallpaper the forum
Assassination, is my solution
No light operation, just massive contusions
Deaf dealing rhymer with a lust for blood
Conflict with the Master and your name is mud
I kick it up, no mercy for the fact you’re brave
I’ll just bury your butt, then I’ll spit on your grave
Laugh at your family as they stand and cry
Cold smack your mother all in the eye
Cause I’ll never get to heaven but you know damn well
I’ll wear Bermuda Shorts while I’m maxing in hell
So all suckers step back, reacting the death’s attack
Don’t try to ripe me off, just talking like way smack
Because I’ll leave a shamble, I hustle don’t gamble
And I’ll rock your butt blind like HBO scramble
Dogging the WAX!!

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
Sharp as a razor, down as dirt
Rhyme is my life, party is my work
L.A. is my place, More Righteous is my base
So my lyrics make sense, no words I waste
Down for a duel, colder than Kool – [Kool Moe Dee]
Chill with the brothers who built the Old School
Rhyme like a rocket, smooths in the pocket
Program the 8OA and just lock it
Crash the Studio with my crew, twenty four tracks mixed down to two
Jam hits the stores, packed kinds of floors
Freaks in my hotel room by the scores
This MC Ice-T, I rock the freaks to ecstasy
Take them to the T-O-P and bust them out officially
Never off, always on, rocking to the break of dawn
Like this, like that, an emcee that’s not the whack
All the rappers in the game, recognize my name
They write off as been lame, or get me credit for my fame
I’m here to make it clear, eighty six is my year
I’m the rapper you should fear and I’ll have to peer
Supreme MC Chief, and when I die in my belief
Battle from L.A. to Rome, rock beyond the thunderdome
Sound hard, know why? it is, don’t try
Only the top MCs will master this ability
If you do, you’ll find out what that misword biddly
Or run that other A to me, for high speed poetry
Take advice from Ice-T, leave the cuts to Evil E
Get a girl, feel the bass, write correct for this funky pasta

[Verse 4: Ice-T]
I’m dialing M, for murdering fine emcees’ heads
Showing no remorse, reanimating the dead
Kicking dirt in the wombs, turning a wheel in the rap
I’ll make you run for the hills with a streak up your back
My rhymes are pigeons, stock cooler than Cold
Boys always convincing, jewelry solid gold
Magnified finesse at Hollywood address
The perpetrator, cream maker, representing the West
Avenge is my best friend, homicide is my life
I write my rhymes in my book with blood on the knife
Never been beaten in life, never planned to beat
Either rocked two days straight before I take a breath
The rhymes; memorize them like inside my head
And any one who dared bite somehow ends up dead
Got a license to kill, dogs refusing to chill
Uncut violence is my true thrill
I’m a hitman kinda sort of, suckers talk in manure
With co-cold man known tactics, no man can endure
Not to be mistaken, when Emcees faking
All contracts issued, to Ice-T are taken, with the multitude routes
You have no chance to shout
With the silencer of a ninja, your lights are out
Girls cry to sight, some in Latin fight
For the posal positions at my jam each night
The player from L.A. cooler than any Jay – [LL Cool J]
My name is Ice-T, I make the Mafia Pay
Dogging the wax!!

ICE-T – Home Of The Bodybag

Syndicate fool!!
L.A. — Home of the Bodybag
Ice-T; a young player bred in South Central

Colors, colors, Syndicate fool
A young player bred in South Central
Six in the morning, Ice-T
L.A. — Home of the Bodybag
You played yourself with Syndicate fool
Ice-T, Ice-T; a young player bred in South Central
High Rollers, High Rollers, Syndicate fool
Ice-T, L.A., Home of the Bodybag
My lethal weapon is my mind, My lethal weapon is my mind
Ice-T, Ice-T; Syndicate fool
I’m your pusher, I’m your pusher
Ice-T; a young player bred in South Central
Squeeze the trigger, squeeze the trigger, Syndicate fool
Ice-T, Pimping ain’t easy, Pimping ain’t easy
Drama, Drama with Ice-T, Syndicate fool
Peel their caps back, Peel their caps back
Ice-T, Ice-T; a young player bred in South Central
Power, Power, Syndicate fool
L.A. — Home of the Bodybag
Iceberg, Iceberg, Ice-T, Syndicate fool
Let’s get butt naked and fuck!
Let’s get butt naked and fuck!
Ice-T, Ice-T; a young player bred in South Central
Sex, Sex, Ice-T, L.A. — Home of the Bodybag!

[Outro]
Syndicate fool, O.G. [Echoes]

ICE-T – Haters

[Ice-T impersonating his player haters]
Yo nigga, this club is whack as shit
Word man, make shit as bullshit
I’m telling you man
Ain’t nothing up in here but some buster-ass niggaz
Man, fuck these niggaz, right fuck them
These scary ass whores ain’t trying to give a nigga no rhythm
Fucking ass bitch, fuck these bitches
Let me stop this bitch here
I ain’t supposed to know that’s a fucking wig
Tired ass bitch, bitch got weaves and shit
Trife ass, whore ass, bitch
All these niggaz up in here ain’t nothing but some motherfucking marks
Fuck them, right, fuck these niggaz
Ain’t that, that yellow nigga Ice-T?
Fuck him, hell yeah, punk ass bitch
That nigga doesn’t know nobody
Who the fuck the motherfucker thinks he is?
Fuck him, that nigga got all jewels and shit like the nigga can’t get got
Suck my dick! I give a FUCK man!
Nigga we should get that nigga right now, man
Let that nigga know what fucking time it is!

ICE-T feat. Smoothe da Hustler, Kryst – Everything Is Going To Be Alright

[Kryst:] Ummmmm..!
[Ice-T:] The street is cold, Yah!
[Kryst:] Awwww!
[Ice-T:] Yeah, you know, kick some about these streets
[Kryst:] Talk about it! talk about it!
[Ice-T:] You know, Smoothe Da Hustler, Ice-T baby
[Kryst:] Ummmmm..
[Smooth:] You heard about him

[Chorus: Kryst]
Everything is going to be alright, everything is going to be alright!
Hay, everything is going to be okay, okay!
Just keep it fly, keep your head to the sky
Keep your head to the sky!
It’s going to be alright! Ummmm…
Hay, everything is going to be okay, everything is going to be okay!
Just keep it fly, keep your head to the sky ummmm..

[Verse 1: Smoothe Da Hustler]
When you come, keep coming up this hard
Don’t stop ’til you come up large, you hear me?
Wanna grind, get money, some’ll blow your arts
First break, even deny your mark
Get set, get a plan, put the plan in action
I fell off route, goddamn, got jammed in traffic
I reversed the pump van ran it backwards
If shit ain’t moving, gats spit, we’re all was broke once
Some got it, some still getting it
Some lost it all, can’t brought it painless
Hustlers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers, big pocket peddlers
Y’all remember this, when you do pill by them
Slow coasting, window cracked
Endo sack blowing, Benzo waxed
Make blowing, that’s to get so black
Watch them pick grips up from their ‘llacs

[Chorus: Kryst]

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
Keep it fly player, don’t give up
When you hit the bottom, baby, that’s time to get tough
I ain’t no Hilton, kids left in the back of car
Eighty one Sedan, had to hit the streets and play
Maximize my hustle to the fullest, refuse to loose
Recognize that I must pay dues
Drama comes to everybody, it makes the weak get there
And makes the real get cold, and keep done then
I have my days of being broke; no mom, no dad
No sisters, no brothers, no lip, no pad
Like any other poor ghetto youth
I stepped my game up gangster, what’s your excuse?
Nigga, I’ma tell you what to do; tighten up your crew
Loose them, weak bitches before they crush you too
Aim at the top and prepare for worst
Stuck up at the game like you’re dying on earth

[Chorus: Kryst]

[Hook: Kryst]
When folks give up fellow, and your back is against the wall
Got to push them cause you feel, brothers so easy to fall up
But you gotta make moves, don’t let nobody to tell you it ain’t gonna happen
Cause everything is going to be alright
Everything is going to be alright!
When time has get rough and you ain’t got money for rent
Everything is going to be okay!
When everything that you bought got lost cause the high you spent
Everything is going to be alright!
When you’re struggling and hustling and it’s just not working out
Everything is going to be okay!

[Chorus: Kryst]

[Interlude:]
[Ice-T:] Yeah, this is Big Iceberg
[Smooth:] Yeah, this is Smoothe Da Hustler, you know
[Ice-T:] I’ma tell y’all like they told me
[Smooth:] But this ain’t family
[Ice-T:] It ain’t about to come up, it’s about to come back
[Smooth:] Yeah, for real
[Ice-T:] So whatever you feel like, you’re at your bottom
That’s the time to pop your collars to crush them haters off
Yeah, and come back player
[Smooth:] Let’s show them how we do it
[Ice-T:] That’s how real hustlers do
[Smooth:] That’s what I’m talking about, you know
[Ice-T:] Yeah
[Smooth:] S-M-G for life, dog
[Ice-T:] It gets cold man to gain, but that’s what you’re in it for baby
[Smooth:] In it to win it
[Ice-T:] Pass it down
[Smooth:] No doubt!
[Ice-T:] Rolling across the rise of the lights
[Smooth:] Got to stay ahead off it
[Ice-T:] Yeah, you know what we’re talking about
[Smooth:] By any means necessary
[Ice-T:] Yeah
[Smooth:] Even if the necessary means needs..
[Ice-T:] You can do it man, please believe it, please believe it

[Outro: Smoothe Da Hustler]
Yeah, don’t let nobody tell you man, you can’t do what you do
Shake that nigga man, you gotta keep shaking the hating of us
What I tell them – Iceberg, Hustler
The young hustler, young players, keep your head up man!

ICE-T – Cold Wind Madness (aka The Coldest Rap, Pt. 2)

Yo yo yo, please please, please check it out
Cause I’m a player, I’m always clean
I bought Mercedes Benz when I was seventeen
From the womb to the tomb, I run my game
Cause I’m cold as ice, and I show no shame

[Break: Sampler of cold wind blowing]

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
The ladies say that I’m heaven sent
Cause I got more money than the US mint
I ride Rag-Top Rolls with rocks on my hand, Maseratis and Mercedes Benz
I have the Uz to line, private Jets, Bel-Air-Boogies place my bets
I own islands up, there close to France
Now I wear designer, chucks and pants
When I was brought into this world
My mamma never asked if I was boy or a girl
First I rolled over to her, and gave her a kiss
She said: Your daddy don’t rock me like this!
When the doctor hit me on the behind, I broke on down with a funky rhyme
The nurses said I was awfully cute
When I played out a joint, in a three piece suit
Yo yo yo, please please, please check it out
Cause I’m a player, I’m always clean
I bought Mercedes Benz when I was seventeen
From the womb to the tomb, I run my game
Cause I’m cold as ice, and I show no shame

[Break: Sampler of cold wind blowing]

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
I took her by her hand, I said come with me
We drove up in my vicious eighty three
I took her to diner, I took her to the show
I took her to the suite cause she begged me to go
We got into the room, to make After-Long snaps
So she just shut the seven buckles up and came up with a gat
Stretched through the door, I didn’t cut no slack
I had her on the floor, on her stomach, on her back
I had her on the wall, and I hold it on the knee
I put her in the hot tub and the water started to freeze
I took her out the hot tub then I put her on the faucet
“Ooh Ice-T, I can’t take no more”
I put her in the bed then she looked up in the mere
Screaming so loud, I think the East Coast did hear
I floored on my back, I put her on the top
She said: “Ooh Ice-T, would this ever stop?”
I said No! the freaking has just began
We hit fifty more positions before I got gone
When we’ve got finished, it was no longer dark
We had rocked so hard, made her snotty farts bark
Then she rolled over to me, she looked me in my eye
And said these words to my surprise:
She said: I tried to check you, cause I knew I could
I came here with you, cause I thought I should
I tried to freak you, cause I thought I could
But oohh baby, you’re sure I could?
She said: baby you’re one hell of a man, ain’t no better riding than Disney Land
Now to all you ladies that think you’re fly, and can out freak the average guy
Don’t ever come venturing through my door
I’ll have begging to stop, while you’re screaming for more
Yo, please check it out
All the ladies in the house come check it out
Cause I’m a player with juice on every hand
So deeply in packet I control demand
But we all know how I earn my pay
Cause if you don’t wanna work, then you got to play

[Break: 69 seconds of Jazz music interlude]

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
Brothers when you winning in Donna Fox
You don’t take her to MC Donalds to jack in the box
Don’t pick her up, in a bus or a Cap
She needs a black belt chauffeur and a cornice wrap
You can take her to dine at the finest spot
Or you take her to a disco that’s really hot
You can take her home and while you’re all alone
Don’t forget to disconnect the phone
You can take her to the bed, you throw back the sheets..

ICE-T feat. Hot Dolla, Mr. Wesside & Powerlord Jel – Bouncin’ Down The Strezeet

Yeah, Ice-T up in here, boy (Westside Niggaz)
Got my man Hot Dolla in the house, you know what I’m saying? (Westside, you know)
J-E-L, Rhyme Poetic Mafia up in here (Westside Niggaz)
Got Mr. Wesside in the place, you know what I’m saying? (Westside Niggaz)
Straight lace hustlers in the house
Yo Wesside, tell them how you do it, baby

[Verse 1: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]
Drinking up my Alpine
18-inch bolt gauge bumping up jealous niggaz on my mind
It’s my cash, my dollars, my paper
Just hit the lick, now, suckers wanna pull capers

What you think all my gats is for?
But ain’t got no Rottweilers by the door
Bring your ass on in friend, then, counting my currency
Til call you sleep out of the blue twenty
Mac 90s, mind on my money
Still trying to fuck that bitch in Aqua
Out the bally cause I used to love ya
My bunny, is acting, funny, but fuck you bitch
Bouncing on these bitches, like eighteen switches
Side to side, front, three-wheel motion
Sedan De Ville sliding like lotion
Out of the Central (WHAT?!)
Upping to the hills with my kinfolks

[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]
Niggaz gonna be bouncing down the Street-zy
To this beat-zy, with the heat-zy, another deize-y
With your dough money, dose money, money rose on your dome
Moving on Chrome, and gold (Ds)

[Verse 2: Hot Dolla]
Nigga, I can’t loose, just I ooze up and down these tracks
Cause the booth has got me feeling like the rat pack
In the killing to the ceiling with my height, off lights with no direction
From the rep like Comp-town section, a fear from my complexion
A fear from my erection, so they put me in corrections
It’s life in effect, the fact I’m trapped in my existence
But even from my thousand yard distance
I’m seeing right through you with that mad dog glance
With that gangster’s dance
So we can sag them pants, come take a chance
Would you like to dance in the infra-red drip like?.. (*Gun Shots*)
?? and 100 Spokes and don’t make me loke
It’s Hots-to-the-Dolla baby, ain’t no joke
You plus my bank is poke, so I got to make a statement
I’m on my third strike, I’m rolling on the bike
I’m asking all you niggaz what that Comp-town like?
Before I gots to pull a fire for that N.Y.

[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]

[Verse 3: Powerlord JEL]
Man, the Ese’s rolling shit, I know what’s up
I’m cold, heading back streets and ripping gangster cuts
Ohh yes; I floss daily, fuck our represent
And straight show, keeps my Ds on a hot cement
And.. I’ll tell your dealer Cali’ ain’t no joke
Cause that smog on the West Coast is Indo smoke
So don’t slip for a second, and get played like a whore
Ohh, don’t make me bust in Pac-sive mode
I enroll mad legal making mass appeal
And you can ask anybody if my clique pack steel
Cause no matter where I flow, brothers pay the cost
And that’s why they’re gonna tell you that I can’t be toast
Man, you didn’t know my music, didn’t know my skin
But you can win, listen to the the Mexicans
So don’t talk about me, cause I’ll work you son
But the crazy thing about it, I won’t be needing my guns

[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]

[Verse 4: Ice-T]
Busters can’t even see the Ice, as I flex this
You couldn’t afford the Benz®, so you had to buy the Lexus®
But how them pillars over fans that I ride on the weekend
Lock me up, watch my custom drive, shaft vans square dumps in my trunk
Lick it once, watch my front end fly, as I skate on by
On them five twenties money, Titanium Scrape Plate
Rock the ass like you blocked up, Show Nuff
I got the cute trunk, hooked up with four pumps in the middle
Hit your corner looking like a damn tricycle
Hit the pancake, let the butter late on the drown
And get on out the ride and clown
With my homies on the corner in South Central, California
You couldn’t get more real if you wanna
I’m gonna let you know that when I froze, just don’t trip on gauze
Front seat for my homies, back seat for the whores

[Chorus: Swaggafornia A.K.A. Mr. Wesside]

ICE-T feat. Dave Storrs – Body Rock

Let your body rock!
Let your body rock!
Let your body rock!!

[Verse 1: Ice-T]
Hip-Hoping; is a thing to binge
Is where the stone-cold Nitro party begin
So listen party people with an ear to the street
The Cali’ professionals and the socially elite
To the fly young guys, to the pretty girls
Ice-T is gonna tell you about that Hip-Hop world

[Break:]

[Verse 2: Ice-T]
Hip-Hoping is a way of life
With graffiti and rapping on the mic
As the record scratches to the break of beat
The Hip-Hop was sound of the street
The Hip-Hoping, being around a while
With the serious funk, that people style
A record scratches, a simple rap
A breaker spinning on his back

[Chorus: Dave Storrs]
Body Rock!!
Body Rock!!
Body Rock!!

[Verse 3: Ice-T]
Now I don’t care what people say, Hip-Hop is here to stay
When the Hip-Hop scene first gained attend, they said it would die
They said it couldn’t make it, they said it’ll never fly
Now every where, for you to see, in movies, Radio, MTVs
But the Hip-Hop scene has substance, unlimited dimensions
And it will leave with whirlwind out-mass media attention
Cause it is not some fad, created over night
It is a cultural movement, that bred by city lights
Now I’ma break it down, for all of you
Who never seen a Hip-Hop crew, or the gangster cuts of cold DJ
Shocking and rocking to the break of day
Or the master art of the graffiti man
Expressing himself with his brave hand
Yo people! what is gonna be?.. Hip-Hop is making history
Now Hip-Hop club is not a disco
It’s the record controls over your rapping show
Like New York rocking the LA’s radio
The DJs keeping your audio speakers on the go
No Three-Piece suite allowed inside
T-Shirt and tennis shoes, loose your ties
You can scratch your turntable when you cross the floor
And beats been on two, and sometimes in four
Like this.. (Turntablizm scratching)

[Break:]

[Verse 4: Ice-T]
So if you listen to the music by your radio DJ
And listen to the rappers, on the records that they play
And check out the graffiti, that turns ghettos into ark
Or watch the kids do dance, on the street and in the park
On this time, you realize, Hip-Hoping is the way
To find true people in the city streets in this cold world today
Let’s dance not fight, and all unite, just turn the box up loud
To the funky beat, on any street, you’ll find that Hip-Hop crowd

[Outro: Dave Storrs]
The Body Rock!!
Keep your body rock!!
Let your body rock!!
Let your body rock!!
Keep your body rock!!
Let your body rock!!
Body Rock!!
Body Rock!!
Just Body Rock!!

ICE-T feat. Sean E. Sean – A Lotta Niggas

[Sean E. Sean] Yo, what up my nigga Ice?

[Ice-T] Yo, what’s up Sean E. Sean? how you’re living, baby?

[Sean E. Sean]
Yo man, cool it up
You know, it ain’t me man, but a lot of niggaz, man
It ain’t me, a lot of niggaz is saying, man
You went out, doing the movies, you know
You got the BC, Rock & Roll band, you know
You supposed to be Ice-T – O.G. – Hip-Hop

[Ice-T]
Yo, yo, check this out man!
A lot of niggaz don’t know what a DI blow is
Is that mean I don’t want one?
A lot of niggaz got lot to say about Rap
But ain’t never grabbed the mic and rocked one goddamn show
A lot of niggaz still on the street cause they worried about
what a lot of niggaz would say if they go out and get a job
I’ve never ran with a lot of niggaz
I only ran with the Real Niggaz, you know what I’m saying?
And if you ain’t willing to do shit your way
Then you have to copy a lot of niggaz, and that copy can’t be real
It could only be counterfeit
And a lot of niggaz had never figure that shit out
Yo, I’m out here man, Peace!

[Sean E. Sean]
Word! man
FUCK them bitch ass niggaz!

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