Yo Evil, what’s up man? They be buggin’, they won’t play our records on the radio, man, say we violent, man. They need to look at the news, you know what I’m sayin’? Somebody need to kill that noise. Man what you doin’ with that up under your shirt? Aw, man, it’s time we put some head out, word. Let’s get busy, E. Come on, home boy
Squeeze the trigger
Man I’m tired of this nonsense, sweatin’ my crew, tryin’ to come to the show, searchin’ my car, man I’m sick of the cops
Rampage on stage, my crew’s in a rage
Searched my posse, found the Uzi but missed the 12 gauge
Maniac, I’m a rhyme brainiac, livin’ on the edge of a razor, remember that
Cold rollin’ thick as a shake, I’m rockin’ hard as a quake
I can live on bread and water or lobster and steak
My mind’s a riot gun, there ain’t none bigger
About to unload the ammo, E squeeze the trigger
(“You fight…”) Got ‘im! (“…to live.”)
“Police still have no leads for the apprehension of the south side slayer. Death total stands at ten.”
“Has it ever occured to you? The president might be the one who wants you dead.”
They say I’m violent, they should watch the T.V
You say I’m brutal, you should check your P.D
You made me, now your kids rave me
I rap about the life that the city streets gave me
Murder, intrigue, somebody must bleed
Miami Vice is small time, L.A.’s the big league
From the Rollin’ ’60s to the Nickerson G’s
Pueblos, Grape Street, this is what I see
The Jungle, the ’30s, the V.N.G
Life in L.A. ain’t no cup of tea
And they be sayin’ I’m illin’, yo
Squeeze the trigger
Got ‘im!
“Violence erupts at a Los Angeles hip-hop concert. Rap music is blamed for violence
Violence erupts at a New York hockey game. Hockey is blamed for violence
Violence breaks out at a European soccer game. Soccer is blamed for violence
Violence breaks out at a nuclear peace rally. Peace is blamed for violence.”
I’ve been dogged out by cops, shackled and socked
Paid my dues to the streets, took my hard knocks
Disrespected by snobs, damn near trampled by mobs
Persecuted by squares workin’ nine to five jobs
But like a panther I prowl, like a lion I growl
Learn to see behind my back like the head of an owl
I’m the voice of the youth, the prophet of truth
What I speak is reality though some may say ruth-
-less tactics are takin’ by me to awaken
People to life but I feel no fakin’
No jivin’, no lyin’, no frontin’, no playin’
Say exactly what’s up, understand what I’m sayin’
Ban me, try it, you might cause a riot
What the radio won’t play, the underground will supply it
I’m an MC pirate that’s loud, not quiet
Radical as they make’em, make a rule I’ll defy it
Critics may say I’m wise, some may call my words lies
I’ve lived more in one day than they will in their lives
With most due respect the words I inject
Kick credit for realism and the truth I project
Because I could bust rhymes for fun, or cut MC’s like a knife
But the topic I love is the drama of life
So don’t diss me don’t dare, I feel you should care
You may think I’m soft but you’re just unaware
Of the wrath of the Ice enraged, prepare
For a true nightmare
Squeeze the trigger
Cops hate kids, kids hate cops, cops kill kids with warnin’ shots
What is crime and what is not? What is justice? I think I forgot
We buy weapons to keep us strong
Reagan sends guns where they don’t belong
The controversy is thick and the drag is strong
But no matter the lies we all know who’s wrong
Homeless sleep on the city streets
Waitin’ to die with nothin’ to eat
While rich politicians soak their feet
In the pools at their ten million buck retreats
People hate people for color of face
No one had a choice in the race we were placed
A brother in Queens was beaten and chased
Murdered cold in the streets, a goddamn disgrace
Just because of his race, his life went to waste
And not one went to jail when the court heard the case
Justice or corruption? It’s all interlaced
How can you swallow this? I can’t stand the taste
Squeeze the trigger
“L.A. drug war continues. Three killed in execution style murders. Film at eleven.”
“All flights are delayed at LAX, due to terrorist bombings. Five adults and two children are dead.”
I get paid for illin’, cold makin’ a killin’
My pockets keep fillin’, I got dollars to the ceilin’
Got a safe in my floor, car got bullet-proof doors
Every time I rock the mic I leave you wishin’ for more
‘Cause my raps ain’t bull, got cold stupid pull
You wanna eat my rhymes like candy, ’til your mind’s over full
But most MC’s today ain’t got nothin’ to say
A to the motherfuckin’ K
Get him!
Yo E, man, i’m tired of this, let’s call up the posse, let’s end this noise, word
Now you think you know what time it is? Word, we out of here
“Los Angeles rapper Ice-T’s records banned because of his blatant use of reality”
This album is dedicated to Rhyme Syndicate
They hear my records before they’re made
When they’re just on paper, when they’re demos laid
At 6am when the cops run their raid
We don’t worry about suckas ’cause they will get sprayed
PEACE
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