Ice Cube
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Spittin' Pollaseeds

Ice Cube


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

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