It's life in L.A.

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Long Beach and Compton are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where the shit goes down

[ VERSE 2 ]
Now niggas like they credit and they like to get they loans on
So I hooked up with my boy who turns them phones on
He told me bout this nigga who won't pay
He also said he knew excactly where the muthafucka stay
So I went and got some homies I hang with
Some crazy muthafuckas who I used to bang with
We took a trip to his crib
I snatched his hoe and his kids, and this is what we did
I tied they punk ass up
I cracked the safe with an axe, and then the phones we cut
I didn't hurt his wife
But I promised next time that I would take her life
I shot a nigga in his neck for disrespect, caught a body
Got a murder in Miami for a shoot-out at a party
Got blood in my trunk from a punk who squealed
Had a partner tried to play me and his cap I peeled
Now I rest with my finger on my heater

Hand on my beeper, a light sleeper

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
New York and Philly are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Frisco and Oakland are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down

[ VERSE 3 ]
I use to sling enough water you could float a boat
You could ski on the mountains of fuckin coke
But now most niggas serve chronic
So I let em check the bank, and then I'm all up on it
I serve em with a cute hoe
In a week they tell my bitches 'bout all they dough
Then I jack and I kill
The jack's for the money, the kill's for thrills
I got 9'000 blacks that still serve crack
Got a bitch who works the Plaza too on the track
Got a GTA connection and I fence for jewels
Got some little kids that move my fuckin dope in schools
Got warrants for arrest in about 20 states
Got a bigger body count than fuckin Norman Bates
I'm a killer, jacker, dealer, pimp supreme

I'm livin out the hustler dream

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Houston and Atlanta are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where that shit goes down

[ VERSE 4 ]
Tonight I gotta meet this nigga from around the way
Some think he's cool, I think he's DEA
He said he want it bad, he heard that I got it good
I bagged up ten ki's of flour and met him in the hood
I met him at my spot, cause I know it's cool
Pat him down on sight to remove his tool
I made him name 10 niggas he should know
But that still ain't shit in the game of blow
He asked to see the dope, I asked to see the cash
He reached for that briefcase too fast
A fuckin pig, yo, he thought he had the chump
I had my nigga in the closet with a bull pump
And now there's fuckin shot-up body all on the floor

But that's what the shovel's for...

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Newark and Miami are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Detroit and Chicago are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where that shit goes down

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
D.C. and Cleveland are some down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where the shit goes down

I lowride and I sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
I know all my niggas live in down-ass towns
But South Central L.A. is where my shit goes down

"Intro"

A child was born in the East one day
Moved to the West coast after his parents passed away
Never understood his fascination with rhymes or beats
In poetry he was considered elite
Became a young gangster in the streets of L.A.
Lost connections with his true roots far away
But no matter the job or crime
He never lost his hardcore obsession to rhyme
New York's hip hop movement broke loose
DJ's cut records, raps had the juice
Since busting rhymes was his natural thing
He was crowned the west coast MC king
But after his inauguration there was a rush
Of wack rappers with one intention to crush
This master rapper and take his throne
A simple job,he had no crew, he stood all alone
Assassins came in groups of one through five
With raps no mortal MC could survive
But he showed no mercy, he rapped blood thirsty
Battling from Friday on through to Thursday
Never losin a bout, never ending in doubt
Every confrontation K.O. knock out
On his never ending journey to the T.O.P.
The L.A. player M.C. ICE-T

"6'n The Mornin'"

6'n the morning' police at my door
Fresh adidas squerk across the bathroom floor
Out the back window I make a escape
Don't even get a chance to grab my old school tape

Mad with no music but happy 'cause I'm free
And the streets to a player is the place to be
Gotta knot in my pocket weighin' at least a grand
Gold on my neck my pistols close at hand

I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip hop beats
But just livin' in the city is a serious task
Didn't know what the cops wanted

Didn't have the time to ask

Word

Seen my homeboys coolin' way out told 'em bout my mornin'
Cold bugged' em out shot allmenn little dice until my knees got sore
Kicked around some stories bout the night before
Possed to the corner where the fly girls chill

Through action at some freaks until one bitch got ill
She started actin' stupid simply would not quit
Called us all punk pussies said we all weren't shit
As we walked over to here hoe continued to speak

So we beat the bitch down in the god damn street
But just livin' in the city a serious task

Bitch didn't know what hit her didn't have time to ask

Word

Continued clockin' freaks with emcee posterior
Rollin' in allmenn blazer with a louie interior
Solid gold the ride was raw
Bust allmenn left turn was on Crenshaw

Sean-e-sean was the driver Known to give freaks hell
Had a beeper goin' off like a high school bell

Looked in the mirror what did we see ?
Fuckin' blue lights L.A. P.D.
Pigs searched our car, their day was made

Found allmenn uzi, 44 and a handgranade

Threw us in the county high power block
No freaks to see no beats to rock
Didn't want trouble but the shit must fly
Squabbled this sucker shanked' em in the eye

But livin' in the county is a serious task
Niga didn't know what happend
Didn't have time to ask

Back on the streets after five and a deuce
Seven years later but still had the juice
My homeboy Ken Gee put me up the track

Told me E's rollin' Villain - BJ's got the sack

Bruce is a giant - Nat C's clockin' Dough
Be bop's a pimp. My old freaks a hoe
The batter rams rollin' rocks are the thing
Life has no meaning and money is king

Then he looked at me slowely and Hen had to grin
He said Man you out early we thought you got ten
Opened his safe kicked me down with cold cash
Knew I would get busy- He didn't waste time to ask

Word

I bought a Benz with the money the rest went to clothes
Went to the strip strted pimpin' the hoes
My hair had grew long on my seven year stay