(Kick that shit)
(Cold kicking ass)
Cold kicking ass
Cold kicking ass
(Funky fresh Eazy-E)
(Pull up a chair and I’ma tear shit up)
I don’t drink brass monkey, like the beat funky
Nickname Eazy-E, yo’ 8 ball junkie
Bass drum kicking to show my shit
Rapper holdin’ my dick, boy, I don’t quit
And if ain’t rap, then you know it’s crap
Crowd rocking sucka stomper from around the way
I got a six-shooter, yo, mean hombre
E rolling out, to find the Boyz
To kick dust and cuss, crank up some noise
Police on my tail, I don’t like jail
40 ounce in my lap and and it’s freezin’ my balls
Hook a right turn and let the boys go past
Then I say to myself, they can kiss my ass
Hip to get drunk got the eight in my lips
Put in the old tape Marvin Gaye’s Greatest Hits
Turn the shit up had the bass cold whomping
Cruising through the Eastside, South of Compton
See a big ass, and I say word
I took a look at her face, and the bitch was to the curb
But she was on my tip for the title I’m holding
Eazy-E’s getting busy got the 8-ball rolling
I, was…cold kicking ass
I, was…raised in L.A
I, was…cruising down the street in my six-four
Too much posse
Riding on Slauson, looking for Crenshaw
Turned down the sounds, to ditch the law
Stopped at a light and had a fit
Cause a Mexican almost wrecked my shit
Flipped his ass off put it to the floor
Bottle was empty so I went to the store
Nigga on tip cause I was drunk
See a sissy ass punk, had to go in my trunk
Reached inside cause it’s like that
Came back out with a silver gat
Fired at the punk and it was all because
I had to show the nigga what time it was
Pulled out the jammy and like a mirage
A sissy like that got out of Dodge
Sucka on me cause the title I’m holding
Eazy-E’s fucked up and got the 8 Ball rolling
Fuck it up, y’all
Fuck it up, y’all
Fuck it up, y’all
Fuck it up, y’all
Fuck it up, y’all
Fuck it up, y’all
Yeah
Olde English 800, because that’s my brand
Take it in a bottle, forty, quart or can
Drink it like a madman, yes I do
Fuck the police and a 502
Stepped in the party, I was drunk as hell
Three bitches already said, “Eric yo’ breath smells!”
40 ounce in hand that’s what I got
Yo man you see Eazy hurling in the parking lot
Stepped on your foot cold dissed your ho
Asked her to dance and she said, “Hell no”
Called her a bitch because that’s the rule “Bitch?! Who you callin’ a bitch?!
Boyz-n-the hood trying to keep me cool
Tell my homeboy you wanna kick my butt
I walked in your face and we get em up
I started dropping the dogs, and watch you fold
Just dumb full of cum got knocked out cold
“Make you look sick you snotty-nosed prick!
Now your fly bitches all over his dick!”
Punk got dropped cause the title I’m holding
Eazy-E’s fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling
Yo, pass the brew Ren while I tear shit up
And y’all listen up close to roll call
Eazy-E’s in the place I got money and juice
Ron-De-Vu’s with me and we make the deuce
Dre makes the beats so funk funk funky
Do the Olde 8, forget the brass monkey
Ice Cube writes the rhymes, that I say
Hail to the niggas from C.I.A
Krazy D is down and in effect
We make hardcore jams, so fuck respect
Make a toast all you punk to the title I’m holding
Eazy-E’s breaking out and got the 8-ball rolling
Man I’m outta here
Yo Eazy, you forgot to tell em what city you chill in
In the city (city of Compton)
In the city (city of Compton)
City City City of Compton
City City City of Compton
City City City of Compton
City City City of Compton
City City City of Compton
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