Текст песни Ice-T - O.G. Original Gangster
Ice-T - O.G. Original Gangster слова песни
Ten years agoI used to listen to rappers flowTalkin` bout the wayThey rocked the mic at the discoI liked how that shit was goin` downWith my own soundSo I tried to write rhymesSomethin` like them, my boys said,"That ain`t you Ice,That shit sounds like them."So I sat back, thought up a new trackDidn`T fantasize, kicked the pureFacts. Motherfuckers got scaredCause they weas unprepairedwho would tell it how it relly was?Who dared?A motherfucker from the West CoastL.A. South Central foolWhere the Crips and the Bloods playWhen I wrote about partiesIt didn`t fitSix in the Mornin`That was the real shitCHORUSO.G. Original GangsterWhen I wrote about partiesSomeone always diedWhen I tried to write happyYo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crimeWhy play ya blind?A simple lookand anyone with two centswould know I`mA hardcore player fromhe streetsRappin` bout hardcore topicsOver hardcore drum beatsa little differentThan the average thoughJet you thru the fast laneDrop ya on death rowCause anybody who`s been thereKnows that life ain`t sho lovelyOn the blood-soaked fast trackThat invincible shit don`t workThrow ya in a jointYou`ll be comin` out feet firstSo I blst the mic with my styleSometimes I`m illThe other times buck wildBut the science is always thereI`d be a true suckerIf I acted like I didn`T careI rap for brothers just like myselfDazed by the gameIn a quest for extreme wealthBut I kick it to you hard and realOne wrong move, and you caps peeledI ain`t no super heroI ain`t no Marvel ComicBut when it comes to game I`m atomicAt droppin` it straightPoint blank and untwistedNo imagination needed, cause I lived itThis ain`t no fuckin` jokeThis shit is real to meI`m Ice-TO.G.Two weeks ago I was out at the discoTwo brothers stepped up to meAnd said"Hey yo, IceWe don`t think you`re downWhat set ya claimin`?"E drew the Glock, yo my set`s aimin`!Dumb motherfuckerTry to roll on me, please!I`m protected by a thousand emceesand hoodlums and hustlersAnd bangers with Jeri curlswe won`t even count the girlsCause they got my backAnd I got theirs tooFight for the streetsWhen I`m on Oprah or DonahueThey try to sweat a niggaBut they just didn`T figureWhat my wit`s as quick as a hair trigger"He`s not your everyday-typePrankster."I`m Ice-T, the original gangsterSo step to meIf you think that you`re ready toGot on your bullet proof?Well mine`s goin` right thruThis ain`t no game to meIt`s hollow fame to meWithout respect frome streetsSo I don`t claim beThe hardest motherfucker on earthCatch me slippin, I can even get workedBut I don`T slip that oftenthere`s a coffinWaitin` for the brotherWho comes off soft whenThe real fuckin` shit goes downTake a look aroundall them pussies can be foundthey talk a mean fightBut fight like hoesI`m from South Central, foolWhere everything goesSnatch you out your car so fastYou`ll get whiplashNumbers on your roof topFor when the copters passGang bangersDon`t carry no switch bladesEvery kid`s got a Tec 9 or aHand grenadeThirty-seven killedLast week in a crack warHostges tied upAnd shot in a liquor storeNobody gives a fuck"The children have to go to school."Well, moms, good luckCause the shit`s fucked up badI use my pad and penAnd my lyrics break out madI try to write about funandthe goodtimesBut the pen yanks away and explodesAnd destroys the rhymeMaybe it`s just cause of where I`m fromL.A. that was a shot gun!CHORUS