Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ice da Chain, artist - E-40.
Date of issue: 02.03.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Ice da Chain |
Unlreased track that ain’t nobody knew that Mac Dre did? |
Yup |
All this shit brand new |
So I fuck with it then |
My lips is like feet |
Jump on the beat like a trampoline |
I got heat, nigga, gasoline |
A rap group, all in one body |
Cutthoat, put a whole clip, all in somebody |
I know gradibah, trust her a lil bit |
Get sweated by the cops, just for some lil shit |
S’finna spill this shit, get it outta me |
Come straight for my pulmonary artery |
Camaraderie, love for my comrades |
They tote tough thangs and they ready for combat |
That’s right, I’m bad, I’m bad |
And you mad 'cause I got the bitch that you had |
That’s too bad, nigga, step ya' game up |
Ice ya chain up, puttin' ya thang up |
Run ya gang up, lead 'em off the cliff |
Smell that? |
Nigga, get a whiff |
Ice ya chain up, gather ya gang up |
She call me with no doe, I hang up |
So sav, do it all when we run around |
Hoes know strip down when we come around |
We make chips off this gift that we cursed with |
Every time we do it, we do it with a purpose |
Whatchu mad at, man, I’m a class act |
Count stacks while I hit baby from the back |
No need to get meaner |
Oscar my Weiner |
Yeah, 'em was tight |
But she coulda came cleaner |
I don’t play, nigga, I’m Mac Dre |
I drop two albums on one day |
I’ll pop two niggas with one K |
I’ll knock two bitches and they won’t stray |
You ok? |
Lame, I’m the man |
I know this game like the back of my hand |
I call a grand an Iraqi soldier |
Never sober and don’t get pulled over |
From October to the end of September |
I touch more mail than a return to sender |
Stamp, my camp is nothin' but mean men |
Ballers, shotcallers and kingpins |
I’m nutty, dummy, trippy and psycho |
And I just saved money switching to Geico |
Ice ya chain up, gather ya gang up |
She call me with no doe, I hang up |
So sav, do it all when we run around |
Hoes know strip down when we come around |
We make chips off this gift that we cursed with |
Every time we do it, we do it with a purpose |
Whatchu mad at, man, I’m a class act |
Count stacks while I hit baby from the back |
A base with me, guaranteed three G’s |
You get the playa price if you fuckin' with E. B |
My old school nigga, we was fuckin' with T. B |
When I was just a boy in the hood like Eazy |
But now I put that boy in the hood like Jeezy |
I’m pimpin' ya breezy, bought me a G.T. |
on G. P |
Still, nigga bang out them CD’s |
Niggas know I was real before they watch Treal T. V |
Catch me over the stove |
Turn a cola to O’s |
All day I’ll make it snow like the Poconos |
We can blaze up the pipe or snort it up your nose |
We got it sewed, the S.O. |
to the Valley Jo’s |
Roll the six fever, o’beamer |
With that four-four heater |
Yuk stuntin' like coat zebras |
All them stop and goes |
Ready to lock and load |
All my life my niggas ghost walk the load |
I told 'em, yes I am |
Ambit of the mothafuckin' man |
I’m right there in my D-boy steed |
Hip to hands, turn bricks to grams |
So sav, do it all when I run around |
Fuck with wizzle, BRRRAA, how the gunna sound |
We gon' stunt it out |
Dipped in butter now |
So when I run her down, show off from the gutter pal |
Nigga, now, bitch, what’s what, get me |
From Yuk and a bitch to bump, yup |
I’m Buddy Love, ain’t no Mr. Klump |
Boy, I’ll whip the snuff and move zips to bumps |
Yadada, I don’t know, it’s not miss enough |
I’m the gutta puff don in all princess cut |
Ay, quote this, bitch get bucked |
So that bitch get biscuits, what |
Bitch |
Ice ya chain up, gather ya gang up |
She call me with no doe, I hang up |
So sav, do it all when we run around |
Hoes know strip down when we come around |
We make chips off this gift that we cursed with |
Every time we do it, we do it with a purpose |
Whatchu mad at, man, I’m a class act |
Count stacks while I hit baby from the back |
Count stacks while I hit baby from the back |
You know the life line, niggas, it’s a class act |
Daddy of the hood |
Vellquan |