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Interpret:
Ice T
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| O.G. Original Gangster
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O.G. Original Gangster
Ten years ago
I used to listen to rappers flow
Talkin bout the way
They rocked the mic at the disco
I liked how that shit was goin down
With my own sound
So I tried to write rhymes
Somethin like them, my boys said,
"That aint you Ice,
That shit sounds like them."
So I sat back, thought up a new track
DidnT fantasize, kicked the pure
Facts. Motherfuckers got scared
Cause they weas unprepaired
who would tell it how it relly was?
Who dared?
A motherfucker from the West Coast
L.A. South Central fool
Where the Crips and the Bloods play
When I wrote about parties
It didnt fit
Six in the Mornin
That was the real shit
CHORUS
O.G. Original Gangster
When I wrote about parties
Someone always died
When I tried to write happy
Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime
Why play ya blind?
A simple look
and anyone with two cents
would know Im
A hardcore player fromhe streets
Rappin bout hardcore topics
Over hardcore drum beats
a little different
Than the average though
Jet you thru the fast lane
Drop ya on death row
Cause anybody whos been there
Knows that life aint sho lovely
On the blood-soaked fast track
That invincible shit dont work
Throw ya in a joint
Youll be comin out feet first
So I blst the mic with my style
Sometimes Im ill
The other times buck wild
But the science is always there
Id be a true sucker
If I acted like I didnT care
I rap for brothers just like myself
Dazed by the game
In a quest for extreme wealth
But I kick it to you hard and real
One wrong move, and you caps peeled
I aint no super hero
I aint no Marvel Comic
But when it comes to game Im atomic
At droppin it straight
Point blank and untwisted
No imagination needed, cause I lived it
This aint no fuckin joke
This shit is real to me
Im Ice-T
O.G.
Two weeks ago I was out at the disco
Two brothers stepped up to me
And said
"Hey yo, Ice
We dont think youre down
What set ya claimin?"
E drew the Glock, yo my sets aimin!
Dumb motherfucker
Try to roll on me, please!
Im protected by a thousand emcees
and hoodlums and hustlers
And bangers with Jeri curls
we wont even count the girls
Cause they got my back
And I got theirs too
Fight for the streets
When Im on Oprah or Donahue
They try to sweat a nigga
But they just didnT figure
What my wits as quick as a hair trigger
"Hes not your everyday-type
Prankster."
Im Ice-T, the original gangster
So step to me
If you think that youre ready to
Got on your bullet proof?
Well mines goin right thru
This aint no game to me
Its hollow fame to me
Without respect frome streets
So I dont claim be
The hardest motherfucker on earth
Catch me slippin, I can even get worked
But I donT slip that often
theres a coffin
Waitin for the brother
Who comes off soft when
The real fuckin shit goes down
Take a look around
all them pussies can be found
they talk a mean fight
But fight like hoes
Im from South Central, fool
Where everything goes
Snatch you out your car so fast
Youll get whiplash
Numbers on your roof top
For when the copters pass
Gang bangers
Dont carry no switch blades
Every kids got a Tec 9 or a
Hand grenade
Thirty-seven killed
Last week in a crack war
Hostges tied up
And shot in a liquor store
Nobody gives a fuck
"The children have to go to school."
Well, moms, good luck
Cause the shits fucked up bad
I use my pad and pen
And my lyrics break out mad
I try to write about fun
andthe goodtimes
But the pen yanks away and explodes
And destroys the rhyme
Maybe its just cause of where Im from
L.A. that was a shot gun!
CHORUS |
Eingetragen |
12.Oct.2001 23:10:09 |
Letzer Aufruf |
03.Jan.2005 12:01:35 |
Besucher |
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