Jackin' For Beats
Chilly chill, yo homie make the track move
And I'll jack any Tom, Dick and Hank
That's the name of the suckers I done ganked
I get away from a copper
Drop a dime, I'll break you off somethin' proper
With the L-E-N-C-H-M-O-B
T-Bone and that's J.D
And here's how we'll greet ya
Stop fool, come off that beat ya
Feel dumb 'cuz you're caught in the dark
(Ya little nuttin' ass mark)
Raise up, 'cuz you can't have it back
You'll say, "I ain't never got gaffled like that"
Off the end of the gat you choke
Short Dog's in the house, "Whattup Loc?"
Nuttin' but a come up
Gimme that bass, and don't try to run up
'Cause you'll get banked somethin' sweet
Ice Cube and the Lench Mob is jackin' for beats
Straight jackin'
(Afraid of nothing)
Straight jackin'
Straight, straight, straight jackin'
Huh, and even if you're down wit' my crew
(Yo Chuck man, I don't understand this man)
(Yo, you got to slow down)
I jacked them too
And then we'll freak it
Kick that bass and look what we did
Fade the grade, played and made a few mil
And I keep stealin'
Ice Cube'll make it bump
But right about now, (let's get over the hump)
But I don't party and shake my butt
I leave that to the brothers with the funny haircuts
And it'll drive you nuts
Steal your beat, and give it that gangsta touch
Like jackin' and mackin'
Say hi to the .357 I'm packin'
And it sounds so sweet
Ice Cube and the Lench Mob is jackin' for beats
Straight jackin'
Straight, ja-jackin'
Straight, straight jackin'
Ice Cube, I take a funky beat and re-shape it
Locate a dope break, and then I break it
And give it that gangsta' lean
Dead in your face as I turn up the bass
I make punk suckers run and duck because
I don't try to hide 'cuz you know that I love e to
Jack a fool for his beat and then I'm Audi
So when I come to your town don't crowd me
'Cuz I know, you're gonna wanna kick it wit' me
But I know, none of y'all can get with me
So you think you're protected
Well you are 'til you put a funky beat on a record
Then I have to show and prove and use your groove
'Cuz suckers can't fade the Cube
And if I jack ya' and you keep comin'
I'll have you marchin' a hundred miles and running
Stop, stop, stop, stop
Sa-prize, niggaz
Credits
Writer(s): Al Nichol, George Clinton Jr., Garry Marshall Shider, Howard Kaylan, Erick S. Sermon, O'shea Jackson, Derrick A. Baker, Mark R. Volman, Roger Troutman, Jim Pons, Anthony D. Wheaton, Teren Delvon Jones, John Barbata, William Earl Collins, Gregory E. Jacobs, Parrish J. Smith, Walter Morrison, Allen Williams, Billy Nichols
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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