O.G. Original Gangster (исполнитель: Ice-T)
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 [bad word] was goin' down With my own sound So I tried to write rhymes Somethin' like them, my boys said, "That ain't you Ice, That [bad word] sounds like them." So I sat back, thought up a new track Didn'T fantasize, kicked the pure Facts. [bad word] got scared Cause they weas unprepaired who would tell it how it relly was? Who dared? [bad word] from the West Coast L.A. South Central fool Where the Crips and the Bloods play When I wrote about parties It didn't fit Six in the Mornin' That was the real [bad word] 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? simple look and anyone with two cents would know I'm hardcore player fromhe streets Rappin' bout hardcore topics Over hardcore [bad word] beats a little different Than the average though Jet you [bad word] the fast lane Drop ya on death row Cause anybody who's been there Knows that life ain't sho lovely On the blood-soaked fast track That invincible [bad word] don't work Throw ya in a joint You'll [bad word] out feet first So I blst the mic with my style Sometimes I'm ill The other times buck wild But the science is always there I'd be a [bad word] sucker If I acted like I didn'T 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 ain't no super hero I ain't no [bad word] But when [bad word] to game I'm atomic At droppin' it straight Point blank and untwisted No imagination needed, cause I lived it This ain't no [bad word] joke This [bad word] is real to me I'm 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 don't think you're down What set ya claimin'?" drew the Glock, yo my set's aimin'! Dumb [bad word] Try to roll on me, please! I'm protected by a thousand emcees and hoodlums and hustlers And bangers with Jeri curls we won't even count the girls Cause they got my back And I got theirs too Fight for the streets When I'm on Oprah or Donahue They try to sweat a [bad word] But they just didn'T figure What my wit's as quick as a hair trigger "He's not your everyday-type Prankster." I'm Ice-T, the original gangster So step to me If you think that you're ready to Got on your bullet proof? Well mine's goin' right [bad word] This ain't no game to me It's hollow fame to me Without respect frome streets So I don't claim be The hardest [bad word] on earth Catch me slippin, I can even get worked But I don'T slip that often there's a coffin Waitin' for the brother [bad word] off soft when The real [bad word] [bad word] goes down Take a look around all them pussies can be found they talk a mean fight But fight like hoes I'm from South Central, fool Where everything goes Snatch you out your car so fast You'll get whiplash Numbers on your roof top For when the copters pass Gang bangers Don't carry no switch blades Every kid's 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 [bad word] "The children have to go to school." Well, moms, good luck Cause the [bad word] s [bad word] 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 r