| Now hear dis!
|
| All bad man what dey a know
|
| The original bad man dey a know, seen?
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| Daddy Nitro, an' Ice-T dey 'pon? |
| man
|
| Come talk wit reality
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| An' any guy who nah like dey got shot in? |
| face
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| No Ice-T, come talk wit reality star
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| Tell dem bout da endin of da world today. |
| COME!
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| I got a attitude as thick as a convict’s
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| Bomb ticks, my heart beats as I rhyme over hard shit
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| Watch this, the nigga that you didn’t think could do
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| Break through with the rhythm that’ll rock your whole crew
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| Thought you knew; |
| I ain’t no punk or no pooh-butt
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| Step to me, the cops are still diggin niggas up
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| What’s up? |
| What’s up? |
| What’s up? |
| You wanna try your luck
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| You move you weave you bob you got stuck
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| And now you’re trippin with your fuckin brain
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| You never seen so much blood pour through one vein
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| You try to scream, you choke
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| You try to run, your legs are broke
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| You’re bulletproof I hope.
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| Yo, I ain’t no nigga to flex, but I will flip
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| Fuck up a nigga and dropkick his fuckin bitch
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| I love to squabble and I’m good widdit
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| So if you want some nigga come get it
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| I ain’t trippin nigga trippin at all
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| Yo, I’m fuckin walkin over weak rapper’s downfalls
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| It ain’t my fault they fell, it ain’t my fault I sell
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| I pull my ass up from the depths of hell
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| Lawd! |
| Jib-bibbidy-bong, jib-bibbidy-be-bong-ska-dang
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| Daddy Nitro an' Ice-T come wid a different some-thang
|
| Comin out de ghetto tings are wild like pure 'ell
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| Nuff man get? |
| in my firebomb sale
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| Some a sell coke but the music we a sell
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| We no inna doubt, we don’t want no ambulance bell
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| While other lyrics are full of our style we fill up our clientele
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| Ice-T an' Nitro from the, depths of 'ell, COME!
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| You punks are jealous cause I’m rollin in fly shit
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| My shit, all paid for and I don’t owe no guy shit
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| Fuck you, it ain’t my fault your ass is on empty
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| Thought you was it, but you’re smooth gettin pimped G.
|
| . |
| I ain’t no ho fool
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| Got much respect for the new and the old school
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| But many rappers can rip mics but can’t count.
|
| . |
| zero bank amounts
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| Word and many critics are hot cause hard rap hits
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| They like to make it all soft that we pop shit
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| Fuck that, I’ll die before I let the hardcore go
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| Cause I’m a nigga from the G-H-E-T-T-O
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| I got a posse who’s airtight, quick to fight
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| And got the power to continue or end the night
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| And if you stepped on wrong, then you’re a done kid
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| The yellow tape’s in the club because one did
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| I got no pity so don’t ask me for fuckin any
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| I’ll break a bum off but you niggas can’t get a penny
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| When I was broke, I stole my gold, I pawned
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| I lived the life of a hustler off and on
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| I’m just a brother that lived to tell
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| I brought my ass up from the depths of hell
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| Come! |
| In a de ghetto tings are wild round de clock
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| Some man a smoke crack and soem man a fire shot
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| Me tell de people dem laws, that we no inna dat
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| If a guy try dat thing we get them sixteen shotta
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| It’s a lovely night ?? |
| ?? |
| off de chatta
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| Easy Ice-T make them no say you a mark-a
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| Anyway we go on I bet a no say we stop
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| Wit lyrics and de music and right on de?
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| EASE UP and come again my selector
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| All over de world is only for pain an' sufferin
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| That’s why Ice-T and Daddy Nitro come wit the reality thing
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| Nice this everytime star
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| Man like Ice-T 'pon the ?? |
| man
|
| Come in star, one last time and teach dem bout reality
|
| Now watch dis, COME!
|
| I met this girl who act like I owed her somethin
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| Nothin, all I owed her was some good steady fuckin
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| Fuck that, not the one that’s gonna fall on no ho trap
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| Ease back bitch, before you need all your teeth back.
|
| . |
| I ain’t no fuckin mark
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| Made all my money workin bowcutters in the dark
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| Snatch bars and cars and vice grips
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| Long handled sledgehammers, saws and wire snips
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| I got an ill side that drips from my brain at times
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| It still thinks of the psycho and brutal crimes
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| I still remember when I had a low cash flow
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| No hoes, no cars, no gear no dough
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| And times got wicked.
|
| . |
| I even remember havin to sell all my pawn tickets
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| But suckers spread out and they left me with few friends
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| But that’s who wit me as we fuck up the true ends
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| So don’t be trippin if your luck’s gone bad, be glad |
| It’ll empty out the fake fuckin friends you had
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| Then get yourself together, nigga aim straight
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| Shoot point blank at your goals, work hard and wait
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| You can do it even if you fell
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| I brought my ass back from the depths of hell
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| Cause we are serious, en-ter-tain-ers
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| Talk about de Ice-T, he no joker
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| Cause we are serious, en-ter-tain-ers
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| Talk about de Daddy Nitro me no joker
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| Me come and pull up my lyrics and full up my style
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| And full up our lingual
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| As me sit upon de riddim I’mma sit on proper
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| As me flow upon de riddim like a rockin of de gong
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| Me sit upon de riddim like a true ??
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| Man no listen Daddy Nitro like a fierce ??
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| Me flow upon de mic from a ?? |
| area
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| Pam pamma, original chat masta
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| Me pam pamma, original chat masta
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| Me pam pamma, me come fi set fi dance pon fiyah
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| An' if it’s on, well you must fi chant up hiyah
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| Me say dis a Daddy Nitro steppin ?? |
| ??
|
| Come down, no try to diss and no dismiss de kid
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| As me sit upon de riddim wit de man Ice-T
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| All of de massive up here listen to me
|
| Respect me come from inner New York Ci-ty
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| Die gon test me, man go dead and buried, COME!
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| Ease up man, FIYAH
|
| Wicked every time. |
| woy! |
| Woy! |
| Woy! |
| Woy! |