[Intro: Michel’le,
Eazy-E
, &
Dr. Dre
]
He was once a thug from around the way
Eazy, but you should—
Bitch, shut the fuck up! Get the fuck outta here!
Yo, Dre (What’s up?)
Give me a funky ass bassline!
What the fuck is up? (Up) in the place to be (Be)
Comin’ on the mic is Eazy-motherfuckin’-E (E)
Dre is on the beat, Yella’s on the cut
So listen up close while we rip shit up (Shit up, shit up, shit up, shit up)
Well, I’m Eazy-E, I got bitches galore
You may have a lot of bitches, but I got much more
Wit my super-duper group coming out the chute
Eazy-E, motherfuckers, cold knocking the boots
‘Cause I’m a hip
-hop thugster, I used to be a mugster
If you heard
dopeman
, you think I own a drugstore
Getting stupid because I know how
And if a sucker talks shit, I give him a (POW)
8 Ball sippin’, the bitches are flippin’
Slow down, I hit a dip and, continue my trippin’
Hittin’ my switches, collect from my bitches
The money that I make, so I can add to my riches
Fill my stash box and start rubbin’ my gat
Feeling good as hell because my pockets are fat
A hardcore villain cold roamin’ the streets
And wit’ a homie like Dre just supplyin’ the beats
Because I’m a gangsta having fun
Never leave the pad without packing a gun
Hitting hard as fuck, I make you ask what was it
Boy, you should have known by now, Eazy-Duz-It
(“I was”) (“knocking motherfuckers out”)
(“What’s your name, boy?”)
(“Funky, fresh Eazy-E”)
(“Kick, kick that shit”)
(“Where you from, fool?”) (“Compton”) (“Yeah!”)
Rolling through the hood, cold tearing shit up
Stick my head out the window and I say, “What’s up”
To the niggas on the corner cold bumpin’ the box
But you know that’s an alibi for slangin’ the rocks
A dice game starts, I said, “What the fuck?”
So I put my shit in park and had to try my luck
Hard to roll wit’ my bitch jockin’ 24-7
Rolled them motherfuckers, ate ’em up, hit 11 (Rock that shit, homie)
Got another point, I made a ten a fo’
Was takin’ niggas money and was itchin’ for mo’
Laughing in they face and said, “Y’all making me rich”
‘Til one punk got jealous, cold slapped my bitch
He pulled out his gat, I knew he wouldn’t last
So I said to myself, “Homeboy, you better think fast”
He shot (*pow, pow*), then I shot (*gunshots*)
As you can see, I cold smoked his ass (
Haha
)
Because I’m a gangsta having fun
Never leave the pad without packing a gun
Hitting hard as fuck, I make you ask what was it
Boy, you should have known by now, Eazy-Duz-It
Wait a minute, wait a minute, who does it
Motherfuckin’ Eazy does it
(But how does he do it)
“Eazy duz it, do it eazy, that’s what I’m doing”
(“Stop!”) (Man, what you gonna do now?)
Now I’ma break it down just to tell a little story
Straight out the box from the gangsta category
About a sucker, a sucker motherfucker
He’s addicted, he’s a smoker but in Compton called a clucker
He used to have a house, car and golden rings
But the cooky cooky crack took all those things
He must’ve been starving ’cause he broke in my house
Caught the nigga on the street and straight took his ass out
Now I’m wanted for a murder that I had to commit
Yeah, I went to jail, but that wasn’t shit
Got to the station about a quarter to 9
Called my bitch to get me out, ’cause I was down for mine
The bitch was a trip, cold hung up the phone
Now my only phone call was in the gankin’ zone
All the shit I did for her, like keeping her rich
I swear when I get out, I’m gonna kill the bitch
Well, by now you can guess that it was just my luck
The bailiff of the station was a neighborhood cluck
I looked him straight in the eye and said, “What’s up?”
And said, “Let’s make a deal, you know I’ll do you up”
Now back on the streets and my records are clean
I creeped on my bitch wit’ my Uzi machine
Went to the house and kicked down the do’
Unloaded like hell and cold smoked the ho
Because I’m a gangsta having fun
Never leave the pad without packing a gun
Hitting hard as fuck, I make you ask what was it
Boy, you should have known by now, Eazy-Duz-It
From around the way, born in ’73
Hardcore B-boy named Eazy-E
It’s ’88 now, ’73’s obsolete
A nigga with a serious ass attitude and a hundred percent street
And if you all wanna hear some more…
In one way or the other, I’m a bad brother
Word to the motherfucker
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