Last Wordz

You got any last words?
Yeah, I've got some last words

Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house
The nigga you love to hate
Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house
The nigga you love to hate
Ice Cube's in the mutha-fuckin' house

Yo, here comes the nigga with the ruff, terror
The paranoid, gots to get the boy
Get your steel 'cause I feel like a headbanger
Yeah, I got a gang of shits

Styles guns my Uzi wieghts a mutha-fuckin' ton
Bucking down one, bucking down two
Bucking down your crew, muthafuck you
Pigs were blue, I wear black, nothing but black

'Cause god damn it's a brand new payback
Fuck Pat Sajak, never did nothing for a nigga
On the trigger, the zigga, the zag, the nickel, the bag
The nigga, the sag, the forty five mag, got you runnin' like a fag

So, keep your muthafuckin' jokes
'Cause, I'm that nigga with a fresh pair of locs, no yokes but smokes
Crakers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers
Get yah for your drawers, young niggas out to kill for cars

Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house
Ice T in the mutha fuckin' house

Oh, to the muthafuckin' G, I break crazy
A lot of niggas hate me, but they can't fade me
Stop me, clock me, cops wanna Glock me
But the punk, motherfuking pigs can't stop me

Uhh, am I a G? I got proof
Banged in my youth, keep niggas on the roof
With a scope, dough, Cube keep the rope
2Pac'll string a nigga up if the mob don't

So what's up, Punk?
You want what I got, step to me wrong fuck around and get shot
Your mom's crying fuck her, bust her
Bitch start screaming to me and I'll dust her

Pops got the LP phat, track on hit
Laid by the muthafuckin' Bobcat
Ninety three suckas want me to go out
Throw the hoe out, bitch muthafucker, I'm rich

Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house
Tupac's in the mutha fuckin' house

Got any last wordz

Now they're after me, why? 'Cause a nigga's black
Spitting facts and ain't afraid to pull a trigger back
Let 'em come step to a real muthafucker
(Boom Boom) Mama ain't raised no suckers

Dan Quayle, don't you know you need to get your ass kicked?
Where was you when there was niggas in the caskets?
Muthafucker rednecks all the same
Fear a real nigga if he ain't balled and chained

That's why we burn shit and wreck
'Cause the punk police ain't learned shit yet
You muthafuckas gonna pay the price
Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life

It's on, the next real nigga fall dead
Dred, Jheri Curl, process, or bald head
Be prepared for the smoke to bust
What niggas need to do is start loc'in up

United we stand, divided we fall
They can shoot one nigga but they can't take us all
Let's get along with the Mexicans
And we can all have peace on the sets again

Imagine that if it took place (ha ha ha)
Keeping the smile off their white faces
I ain't racist but let's trade places
Trace the hate 'n face it

One nigga teach two niggas, three teach four niggas
And them niggas teach more niggas
And when we blast that'll be the biggest blast you've heard
And them is my last wordz



Credits
Writer(s): Bobby F. Ervin, Tracy Lauren Marrow, Eddie Marion, Tupac Amaru Shakur, Henderson Jr. Thigpen, O'shea Jackson, James Banks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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