G Style
Talk:
Yeah! Rightabot now motherfuckers is layin for a nigga like me Ice-T
to bust some freesyle shit... but I don't do that
I just cold lounge up here at the Ammo Dump with my nigga
Alladin, SLJ, LP and my nigga Henry G
Yeah, we do the shit like this
Verse 1:
The card after the ace is is deuce
So cut the nigga loose on the 3
That's me
The motherfuckin T
I got ride on my surfboard
Rhyme hard
But only buy the shit that I can't afford
That's everything
That's why I ruck big fat rings
Cause in the motherland gold is for kings
I got backup to jack up
Punks who try to act up
Do a world tour, watch the big bank stack up
Motherfuckers get dropped wit the quickness, ??
I got an ill left and a right fist
Make mistakes and you'll lose or you might die
Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your bruise and that's no lie
Meanwhile the penile is stacked to the top wit my niggas
Mostly for squeezin triggas
I call em homies
Pigs call em crooks
So I write and both and put bucks on they books
I give a fuck about a cop or a G-man
They all talk shit
Their breath smellin like semen
I catch em in the alley all alone
Put em in the prone
Pop! Pop! Pop! To the dome
It's the G Style
Gangsta Style
Cerse 2:
G Style, the gangsta talk on the phone flex (?)
I got a teflon .9
And it eats vest
I take a motherfucker out quick
Just for talkin shit
Ride Rolls
Catch hoes like a mitt
LA, Atlanta, New York
Yo, my shit rocks
Chi-Town, Miami, Detroit
I get much props
Because I roll with the hardcore, gee
Every street's the same to me
I don't bullshit
I don't quit
Writin a rhyme fit
KKK pray each day
That I get hit
Motherfuckers try to flip on the Icepick
Move and slip
Close the eyes and catch a fuckin clip
Not in the ghetto no more but I do hang
Got a black game and it's sittin on them thangs
I kick the game from the street
Not the slamma
Tighten up my knockas with a big lead hammer
It's the G-Style
Gangsta Style
Verse 3:
Some of the times I write my raps with extreme speed
Some of the times I take the pen and make pads bleed
My minds clicks to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A lotta people die
Some nights I can't write