Ice-T - Rap games hijacked

Tekst :

Yeah
Too many hardcore muthafuckas out here in this business
Ain t gettin their proper loot
You know what I m sayin?
(Right)
Check the technique
(Aha)

[ VERSE 1 ]
Everybody talkin bout the way hip-hop ain t the same
Suckers kidnapped the game
I know the biggest in the business, and no joke
Half of em broke - and none of em smoke
(Bust the facts, loc)
I got into this hip-hop game
Just to try to get a girl and get some light-weight fame
There d never been no cash made in it
So who thought you could get paid with it?
Just crash the club with my crew and then I m outta there
Hit some skins, act bugged, that was a rap career
Then Run-D.M.C. jumped the fuck off
Got mad paid, word, kicked the bucks off
There wasn t many rappers out there rockin the streets
When hip-hop was just cuts and beats
I seen _Wildstyle_, dug the scene
I wanna be an MC, rock, rock on - know what I mean?
I started crashin rap contests
Shootin hardcore rhymes through wack MC s chests
I signed on the lines of a wack contract
Didn t even read it, fuck that
They gonna put my record out
I m gonna be large, know what I m talkin about?
In the first 2 years I made about 300 bucks
Yo, this business sucks
But I got another chance and I came correct
Got a lawyer and accountant, now my shit s legit
But many won t get no second chance
And get fucked in this biz without a kiss or a dance
The game is to exploit young ghetto kids
A straight pimp game, and there ain t no shame
And the shit s gone too far
100 hip-hop labels with all white A&R s
The game s hijacked

The rap game s hijacked

Let me tell you how it happened

[ VERSE 2 ]
Now while every MC in the game
Was worryin about a white boy gettin the fame
They dug out the foundation
Now let me give a demonstration
Say you got a dope group from the hood
Talkin mad shit like they re up to no good
You take em to a label
Now who sits behind the table?
Some jewish muthafucka that don t know shit
Tryin to tell y all what s a fuckin street hit
The shit s way off course
It s like me tellin Johnny Cash how to sing about his horse
You go on tour, the white agency says you re wild
Tone down your style
The radio jocks are all pop
So how the fuck this nigga know what shit to rock?
The shit that make your face turn green
Is when you get dissed by a kidnap magazine
I give a fuck about these muthafuckas
I m doin this jam to save my hip-hop brothers
Get your paperwork straight, kid
Get a lawyer and accountant just like I did
Don t blow your dough, cause you will see g s
But this game has no guarantees
Learn about publishing points, so you won t be blind
Learn to read everything you sign
Then you might have a chance
If not, bend over, pull down your pants
The game s hijacked

(Yeah
I don t they hear you, brother)
Yo, the rap game s hijacked
(Word)
I m talkin bout a hijack
(Say it one more time, baby)
The rap game s hijacked
Check it
(Break it down for these niggas)

[ VERSE 3 ]
You can go gold and still owe the record label cash
Yo kid, check the math
Learn about the word recoup , troop
And stop walkin round all hyped and souped
You ain t nothin but somethin to be used and worked
You ain t nothin but a sucker to be duped and jerked
Cause the fuckin record label don t love ya, pal
They didn t love ya on the street and don t love ya now
They re out to make an end, friend
Cause every dollar you make, they damn near make 10
They ll take you for everything you got
Or else they ll sign you and they put on the shelf to rot
I m tryin to tell you what s up
You best to listen to this record even if you hate my fucking guts
Cause I just can t stand around and watch rap get done
And my brothers ain t gettin none
A nigga like me has gotta spit game
Nigga, get that cash flow. fuck that muthafuckin fame
Cause the white man s rippin us off once again
Real hip-hop, my man

Fool, the rap game s hijacked
You need to listen, nigga
The rap game s hijacked
Need to play this record about ten times
The rap game s hijacked
Black people don t own shit
The rap game s hijacked
Check it

R&B s hijacked
Black acting is hijacked
Just being black is hijacked
(Build, my nigga, build, my nigga)
Nigga
Stupid muthafuckas, they rippin us off
You better get a end..
While the money s there, boy
Silly-ass bitch runnin around with a gold chain
All niggas gotta get some real estate
Muthafucka
Come up
Fuck a bitch
Better get somethin you can own, asshole
White man ain t givin up shit
Word o life
Although I got a white engineer
But he s gettin minimum wage
So it s cool...

Yeah
Shit s been hijacked

Ice-T - Funky gripsta

Tekst :

(Intro: Ice-T)
Yeah, Ice-T nigga, Seventh Deadly Sin
It s all about that hardcore mind
Got my nigga Radzay, my nigga Bazaro, my girl Gripsta in the house
We gonna do it for all the hardcore niggas out there like this...

(Radzay)
A hard hit makes a soft ass, that s what they told me huh!
I m totally gone, I m in another zone nigga put me on this
We layin stick, my lyrics is heat
Havin visions of ritual mirrors inside my sleep - nigga peep
I remember watchin the news, dead people in jimmy bag
I got a Nine nigga get me mad
And watch me throw up razorblades and get to trippin
I m cats and crippin , lickin is civil like Jack the Ripper
I m on a mission drippin -a-fog
An when it sees a million motherfuckers deceased
some of police are brutal hog, I m actor-baitin
No hesitation to slice a motherfucker in thirty places
Fuck a case - ain t leavin traces here to Redder-Dip
I m aimin a - automatic find a bitch I m hangin up
Protainin up, boss strangler, better save my mother
Flat packs will end as brothers - the bloody covers
Bloody gloves like Yo-J, AK s my brainwaves
I ll strung a nigga all day to my dear play you won t be comin back
I put that on my dear pops when I blast a fierce drop
My bloody mask revealin Jason it s non-stop
The cemetary is what you facin
My steel shot is smokin like chainsaws, brains call
recommend that you get your homies and watch your motherfuckin game fall

(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Radzay, South Central L.A. nigga)
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore

(Ice-T)
Prepare for the night that you never wanted
These streets is taunted, blacked out impala with the big rims on it
Hit cha corner with the lights out, bitch it s on
Duck down wit cha kids, you know what you did
Motherfuck what your niggas say, watch for the ricochet
it s gonna be hard to hear much, once my trigger spray
That s neither here nor there, just beware
Cause when I bust off my gat flings like a roll flair
You now listenin to - the most hated and most loved at the same time cuz
Ice nigga what the fuck you wanna do about a T
Most cha bitch niggas can t fuck with me
Cause your chin-chalked talk I can see through
Like you re rollin in a phat V-12
Bulllshit - pull quick and have your shit cocked or dropped
Keep a spare clip cause sometimes the shots don t stop
It s motherfuckin game to rap about, shits for real
Double action, ain t gotta cock back no more
Got you bitch-ass niggas sweatin like Taibo
Rather lookin , in my face, I m just checkin my flow
So, I advise you to keep it in the studio
Your attittude, you don t wanna meet me dude
My crews like a fuckin wild bunch of escaped beasts
Like scientists, cross cells of apes and G s
All the war - get you battle gear, black fatigues
You talk shit, your crews catch a casualty, uh!

(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Ice-T nigga, what?)
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore
I only like my shit hardcore

(Bazaro)
Aiyyo my style be official, I bust like a pistol
Criminal - the issue, mad shit the nigga been through
Peep now, system, handcuffs nigga listen
Word up, robbin white boys to buy blunts
The representative - GorTek Assassin thought to be a stallion
Yo I be splashin Street Wars
The hardcore Ambassador in a black four door Akaror, I attach yours
The Marquise piece, gold teeth and medallion
Heads I be sappin like the grams I be baggin
Fightin women, cut throat and tree smokin
Violatin , infiltratin , blunt bakin
Block regulatin , the cake, bake, a brick flippin
Green expedition thicker to body stickin
Bazaro, yo I got the hardcore flow
I drop to put a rock from the Bronx y all know

(Chorus)
I only like my shit hardcore
(Bazaro, Boogie down Bronx baby)
I only like my shit hardcore

(Grip)
On the mic, Grip be flexin
Who s next to wreck when I mic check, mic check
I m checkin any verbal an steppin
What the fuck nigga duck you ain t fuckin with this
Get touched cause I lust to bust when I clutch
with the quickness, killin lyricist when I spit this
Who s next on my hitlist when I rip this
Lyrically I m material, the Rap War General
droppin hoes quicker than a syllable, yeah you killable
Your style, unfillable, wishin my shit was stillable
I eel for the fuck of it, queen you know I m lovin it
Dick, never suckin it unless I see a buck in it
You need the whip, cluck it kid, I m furious
Leavin your crew delirious so you don t take it serious
I m guessin you was serious about the West, none test
I got the rep for my niggas on the shaw
Got the ball, fuck the law and yep I wet em out
As I proceed to spread em out and dead em out
Spray em out, lay em out
Ain t no surprise, come see me with four eyes
Young Grip I m a prize, prepare for you demise
Recognize I put a hole in the local aforenor
Nigga this is Coroner

(Ice-T)
Gripsta, Oakland, California

I only like my shit hardcore...

Ice-T - Cramp your style

Tekst :

Ugh, niggas on the d-l casin me out
Truckin my jewels, feelin for the tools
When they come they gots to come correct
Because they know I catch wreck
A well-known wild street vet
Step into the kill zone, baby, it s on
I pack the twin nine-mills that ll lift your dome
Chrome pump with double-eyed slots and such
A fully-auto Mac-dime that is sure to touch
Ya, bust you with the Desert Eagle
Street legal, move against my peole
And the Ice gets evil
Hit you with the .44 Smith & Wes-
Son, you re best to run cause my Tec eats pests
I got a glock with the laser, hot police taser
Step in real close, I hit your throat with the razor
You wanna live or die, it s your decision
Talk shit, you re dissin, i got you in my night vision
Brain fragments on the street released
Another nigga fronts hard, another nigga deceased
I got a H.K., A.K. and a M-16
A 12-gauge street sweeper with the circular clip
Quick to let projectiles fly, you die
And watch your fat moms cry - bull s eye

(I cramp your style
With a bullet and a smile) --> Onyx

What you think all the guns is for?

[ VERSE 2 ]
What s up, niggas don t seem to hear
Still lookin crazy, let me make this clear
Fool, the Ice ain t havin it
And when I let loose lead, believe I m accurate
Fat scope on a 30???6
Sawed-off double barrel and a pistol grip
Pump on my lap at all times
I fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimes
Thompson Center spittin .45 slugs
Black Mac-11, Python .357
Snub-nose .38 or .380
Seventy Automatic, full metal jackets
Hollow points comin atcha fast
You feel the slug before you hear the blast

(I cramp your style
With a bullet and a smile) --> Onyx

Muthafuckas frontin hard
Lookin at niggas crazy and shit
Make a nigga break
Nigga don t want me to pull out

[ VERSE 3 ]
I don t like shootin but I do shoot straight
Niggas I be rollin with will shoot up a wake
Why you wanna step in the sights of a nigga
Known hair trigger, the coroner delivers
More cold bodies to the morgue each weekend
One minute you bleed, the next minute you re leakin
Best to listen close cause this ain t no boast
And never forget that I leave you wet
Bloody, sticky, holes in your Dickey s
Oh what a pity, lookin all shitty
My Winchester will get the best of ya
Hand grenades will fade all the rest of ya
I reach out and touch you with the parabellum
You got a crew, you better tell em

Inne utwory

Losowe utwory

Stars

The air was more than human
And the heat was more than hungry
And the cars were square and spitting diesel fumes

The boars were running wild
Because they re big and mean and sacred
And the children playing cricket with no shoes

That morning we woke up man
To a seven-hour drive
Well there we were in...

Mal acostumbrado

Un ticket de ida y vuelta, fuí tan sólo para tí
Juguete de cartón
Un pobre pasajero que dejaste por ahí
Tirado en la estación

Devuélveme un trocito de mi vida
Devuélveme un poquito nada más
Un poco más
Devuélveme aunque sea...

Wild Horses

Childhood living, is easy to do.
The things that you wanted, I bought them for you.
Graceless lady, you know who I am.
You know I can t let you, slide through my hands.

And wild horses, couldn t drag me away.
And wild horses, couldn t drag me away.

I watched you suffer, a dull...

I built my world around you

I built my world around you
For that s what you wanna too,
But after all it seems
You had many other dreams.

Woh-oh-ooh-oh, yeah.
Woh-oh-ooh-oh, yeah.
I built my world around you,
All for that s what you wanna too.
I built my world around you,
All for that s what you wanna too.

There was something you never...

Breakin

Intro

Hey, boy!

Verse 1

Once upon a time a DJ s task
Was just to play records, what more could you ask?
But then came remixes, scratching and cuts
Which was too much for many, drove some DJ s nuts...