"Body Count"

God damn, what a brother gotta do
To get a message through
To the red, white and blue

What? I gotta die? Before you realize
I was a brother with open eyes

The world's insane
While you drink champagne
And I'm livin' in black rain

You try to ban the A.K.
I got ten of 'em stashed
With a case of hand grenades

(Tell us what to do?) Fuck you!
(Tell us what to do?) Fuck you!
(Tell us what to do?) Fuck you!

(Tell us what to do?) Fuck you!

You'd know what to do
If a bullet hit your kid
On the way to school
Or a cop shot your kid in the back yard
Shit would hit the fan and hit hard!

[CHORUS]
I hear it every night, another gun fight
The tension mounts
On with the body count!

God damn what a brother gotta do
To get a message through
To the red, white and you?

What? I gotta die? Before you realize
I was a nigga with open eyes

The world's insane
While you drink champagne
And I'm livin' in black rain

Don't you hear the guns?
You stupid, dumb, dick suckin'
Bum politicians

(Tell us what to do?) Fuck you!
(Tell us what to do?) Fuck you!

The tension mounts!

"Bitches 2"

I once knew this brother
Who I thought was cool with me
Chilled out together
Even went to school with me
Fly nigga, my ace boon coon
Used to low ride together
Shot dice in the bathroom
Ya want trouble?
Well trouble ya found
Cause we diss ya, then issue
The critical beat down
He needed money
I would always come through
Needed a car? He could use mine too
But bust this!
Out on the street
People say he was riffin'
Callin' me a sucker
Talkin' bout how foul I'm livin'
Someone heard him
Poppin' that shit last week
Frontin' for some pussy
From some big butt freak
Sayin' I'm his worker
I was on his dick!
Talkin' that craazy old weak assed shit
and after all of that
She still walked away
How ya gonna diss your boy
To get some play?
And when I stepped to him about it

He said, "Who snitched?"

[CHORUS]
Yo, how did he go out?
He went out like a bitch!
So ladies
We ain't just talkin' bout you
Cause some of you niggas
Is bitches too!

I knew this brother named Mitch
Stone player
He meet a girl, in five min. he lay her
Trucked crazy jewels
Hands smothered in ice
Been to prison not once, but twice
Kept a stupid thick posse
Made of thugs and
Crooks and hoods
and vet hustlers
Who were up to no good
But they all stood behind him
and watched his back
That's the only way
To roll on the track
But yo,
Mitch got rushed by feds last week
The snatchbared the runk
Of his white Corniche
Took a look inside
And what did they see?
Two keys, and a gallon of PCP!
Oh shit! The thought crashed
Mitch's subliminal
Three strikes, that's called
Habitual criminal
So insted of goin' under
He snitched on his whole posse
Maxed at the crib
And sipped Martini and Rossi
Sold out his whole crew

That rat named Mitch

[CHORUS]

I knew this guy
That was never that fly
Couldn't act cool
Even when he tried
When we played rough
He always cried
When he told stories, he always lied
A Black brother
Who was missin' the cool part
He had the color
But was missin' the true heart
When we would fight
He would always go down quick
So he took karate
and he still got his ass kicked
But now he's married
And he kicks his wife's ass
Says it comes from problems
That he had in the past
Doesn't like Blacks
Claims he's upper class
Joined the police, got himself a badge
Now he rolls the streets
and he's cut to jack
Doggin' young brothers
Cause they usually don't fight back
Got a White partner
And he asked for that
and every night
Another head they crack
So now he's big man

But he really ain't shit!

[CHORUS]

Out one night with my crew
and some new kid
I didn'T know homeboy, but Evil E did
So I thought he was cool
We rode in his ride
Rag top tray on Daytons
Lifted side to side
We hit the party deep
Niggas was hawkin' me
You could feel the vibe
Of thick artillery
Parliament was on, some O.G. shit
I put my back to the wall
And felt my pistol grip
al of a sudden
Niggas started trippin'
Flippin', the record started skippin'
Wildin', fools started locn up
Gats cracked
The room started smokin' up
Me and "E" hit the floor
And then the back door
My boys let off an automatic encore
But when we made it out to the ride
It was gone, we had to shoot it out
Side by side
Punk left us there to die in a ditch!

[CHORUS]

"Fried Chicken"

Off to the studio late night
Time to cut another track
It's gotta be hype
Got my rhyme book in hand
A blue loose leaf
Anybody move on that
They get loose teeth
Evil's got the funky beat
A stupid dope loop
But the record's kind of old!
(What we gonna do troop?)
We gotta clean it up
Cause it's so dope
Tried the rubbing alcohol
Even the Ivory soap
But no matter what we do
The record keeps clickin'
FUCK IT!
Evil E, give me some of that
Damn fried chicken!

"Mic Contract"

Brainstorm microphone napalm
This is it, words from a timebomb
Attack speed, fast as an F15
Raise the heat, light thhe gasoline
Overload, it might cause a blackout
Dead end
There's no chnce to back out
Hit the tripwire
Duck from the gunfire
Broken glass, screech'n car tires, bodies hit the deck
As I commence to wreck
Eject another clip and drip sweat
Face of danger, increasin' nger
Point blank
I smoke another stranger
Grip the mic tight
I see the brake lights
Hit the back door
I lay down cross the floor
E's on the wheels
He makes the rubber squel
Blood's on my gear
From caps I've peeled
About a block away I sit up
Look back
It wasn't nothin' but a
Microphone contract!
Dressed in black I stalk my prey
Parabellum in a leather attache
Low tones I speak, I speak to few
Just give me the money
and who the fuck to do
Four blocks away my aim's clean
Night scope on a silence carbine
Place my crosshairs on my vic's eye
Squeeze the trigger
Watch the brains fly
Violent? Yeah you could call me that
Insane? You're on the right track
But turn the sounds up
So I can stay amped
Do another crew and breaak camp
The only way I sleep is in a cold sweat
You think I'm crazy?
You ain't see shit yet
Cause I love to kill and kill for fun
The microphone goes off
Like a handgun
It's goin' down now
Grab your girl hops
No excuses when the bodies
begin to drop
Look in my face fool
It look like I'm play'n
Don't become another

Victim of mic slayin'

What's up?
You want your feet in some concrete?
I got some brothers
That'll do you for gold teeth
But most the time I move, I move alone
Take a bat
Break your motherfuckin' dome
Shoot you dead in the face
With a sawed off
One hundred ten degrees
Ice don't get soft
Cause I'm hard as they come
I come correct
You can't handle the vandal hit eject
If not you better get
Out my face sucka
Or else you better be
A good bullet ducker
Cause I'm a rip shop
Tell that ass drop
Five o Ice, yo fuck a damn cop!
Cause I move hard and cold
With a gangster stroll
Five thousand dollar suits
And fly gold
Rolex, you can't fit no more
Diamonds on it
Pinky ring, worth a house
If I decide to pwn it
What's up now punk?
Yo start to choke up?
You try to move on the Ice

You'll get broke up!

Midnight, time for a homicide
Showtime, somebody's gonna die
E hits the switch
And thouands of volts connect
With the weapon that's in my fist
I see a sucka in the third row
Try'n to riff
A paragraph and a half he's stiff
I start bustin' off barrages ear high
Mothers grab for their children
Tears fly
I'm like a psycho
In the mircrophone zone
Speakers blown, mind gone
I can't be touched
Once my lyrics begin to fly
Simple stage radiation
Could make ya die
Ya got a prob nigga
you think your rep's bigger?
Hold your heard right there
While I squeeze the trigger
Cause I'm a crazy motherfucker
That's no joke
My favorite smell is
The aroma of gunsmoke
I'm bustin' off another
Lyrical nightmare
Parents hate the Ice!
You think that I care?
Well I don't give a fuck
Cause I rhyme tough
Drop science, still bust the ill stuff
So now it's time for crime
And the rhyme is mine
Track the movement
Hide from the punchline
I rhyme with quickness
Microphone fitness
The assassinator
Stay off the shit list