Ice Cube: Fuck a ghost rider Sittin in the back, of the studio Tryin to write a nigga rap It's the muppet show, most niggas need A&R(A&R) To tell them how to fuck a hoe Ice Cube, true MC, write everything I say, even back in the day Imma spit it, how I feel it, fuck a gimmick You can keep your catchy lines, imma 'bout to write a rhyme If you got backpack, tryin act black Think you know the culture, you'z a fuckin vulture You never a approached the mic You dress like a dike, sayin what you don't like Who deserves five mics, who deserves two But the nigga wit two still can serve you This West Coast, flow is different in the East But in ain't no different in the streets
Chorus: I'm spittin pollaseeds I crack'em one by one cause I dont want to be greedy Cause the salt might make it so I'm spittin pollaseeds I crack'em one by one cause I dont want to be greedy Cause, these niggas is salty Will make you choke ohh oh You miggas got me fucked up
Ice Cube: I'm spittin pollaseeds on the portch, with the torch In case these niggas come around to see the porche When I branish, motherfuckers vanish They don't understand like a nigga speak in spanish No comprende, me no speak no englehh Here a fuck(smack)Now yo ass feelin' tingle Now you doin shit like Darrel Stingleeh Dont get stung by the motherfuckin sting ray Keep it movin niggas, y'all better king me Put your rap careers up on e-bay Crazy toons is the motherfuckin dj Baby drop to your knees, he deserves a BJ I got a big brother, nicknamed CJ When you see him in the hood take it eazy If you a breezehh, take him to the heezehh Do him like Halley Barry did Michael Eleehh
Chorus
WC: I ain't playin I got pulled over by the police And I had some pollaseeds in my hand The police pulled me over and said Twenty-Seventeen, we got a young black nigga over here Age eighteen, look like he thirty-five Look like he drinkin a henesee, and smoke every night I need back up Nigga might have a twenty-two with duck tape on the handle
Wit the twista Hit ya, Its the chippa Pistol grip, scip scippa, ready to finger rear view mirror Ready to bust wit my bandanna bumpin oldies Cube, throw me the line like golden the Kobe So I can bust a cripwalk on these niggas Yellow tape, bark these niggas, fuck all these salty niggas They can't hold our shit Gangsta rap ain't dead, motherfuckers just stole our shit All y'all niggas now its alamoni All y'all did is switch yo name and ate a style up like raveolli Own your club raps and pisses Talk shit I'll knock your Comm-A-Dee glasses off ya face Under the transmission nigga From the West side, fuckin up the program Wit the surplus, Highly hangin up the blow hand Dub-zizzala Tippin on them drolics And spiitin shells at you niggas like pollaseeds
Chrorus
Compositor: Ice Cube; Keith Crouch; Kipper Jones; Kokane; Rahsaan Patterson; WcPublicado em 2006ECAD verificado fonograma #10634463 em 09/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM