|
It's goin down |
|
From the Ammo Dump |
|
I got my nigga SLJ and DJ Aladdin |
|
Droppin the fat tracks |
|
Hit em with it |
|
Syndicate's in the muthafuckin house |
|
All duck MC's get flat, muthfuckas |
|
Yeah |
|
1993 |
|
And it's still me |
|
A rappin brother from L.A., the cool T |
|
Diss a brother, hate a brother, I still come back |
|
With the fat tracks, fuck the pop crap |
|
I got a mind to cold diss a fool |
|
Wack rappers sellin out urge me to pull tools |
|
For no reason |
|
Pop suckers hookin for hits like hoes skeezin |
|
Prostitutes that can't shoot, yet you clock loot |
|
Dancesteps with the weak styles, but you look cute |
|
Bitch, that shit's wack |
|
Let Hammer dance, and you other fools ease back |
|
The microphone in some twist in a clenched fist |
|
Mind locked on ???? load of my hit list |
|
And make duck rappers pray |
|
Many talk shit, but none step this way |
|
Cause I'm quick to beat down a weak clown |
|
Clock crazy juice from L.A. to the Boogie Down |
|
I play the whole map |
|
Got hoes locked like a muthafuckin bear trap |
|
Ice muthafuckin T |
|
Before hoes gee they need two forms of I.D. |
|
Never fess, not the best, but I'm hard to shake |
|
Huh, watch the Ice break |
|
Watch the Ice break |
|
Yo, let's see now who's tryin to diss me |
|
Say I sold out cause I rocked with the B.C. |
|
Y'all are bitches, you're straight wack |
|
Quick to talk shit, but always behind the back |
|
I do whatever I wanna do, punk hoe |
|
I rock a perm, you rock an afro |
|
I wear khakis, while y'all wear silk |
|
Y'all drink forties, and I drink milk |
|
Cause that's my muthafuckin biz |
|
I never sell out, cause it's no sale, kid |
|
Hardcore to my heart from the fuckin start |
|
Whether done over beats or loud guitars |
|
I drop the dope hits |
|
Case you forgot, I invented this gangsta shit |
|
You wanna step to me? New jack, walk |
|
Come back in five LP's, then we can talk |
|
You're just new, kid, you got a hit out |
|
In interviews you talk a lotta shit out |
|
You got paid, you really made out |
|
You went broke when your one jam played out |
|
Now you're searchin for that one more hit |
|
Shhhiiit |
|
I ain't new to this, I got gangs of gold |
|
I come original, then I break the mold |
|
Too many MC's hit, then fold |
|
They're just fakes |
|
Hah, watch the Ice break |
|
Watch the Ice break |
|
Yeah |
|
Syndicate jumpin off 1993 |
|
On some old fly smooth shit |
|
All the muthfuckas out there down with us |
|
You know what I'm sayin? |
|
We're rollin strong |
|
All the busters out there that got some static to say |
|
We're settin this shit off physically this year |
|
Like KRS-One says: |
|
Sucker MC's duck down |
|
Muthafuckas ain't takin no shit |
|
I'm swingin on busters, point-blank |
|
Diss me and it's on |
|
Straight up |
|
Now it's the break of dawn |
|
And the mic is still on |
|
All hoes are fuckin and the rhymes are damn strong |
|
Many MC's that choke from the mic smoke |
|
Those who tried to get with me |
|
Lost in rhyme infinity |
|
Or they lost breath |
|
Try to step to the Ice equals sure death |
|
Cause ??it's then I begin?? than you ever assume |
|
Drop the mic, go rap in your living room |
|
I love the quick kill |
|
Swing on a nigga sometimes just to break ill |
|
Knuckle up, buster, fool, in his fuckin eye |
|
All hands, I need no gun, yo punk, why? |
|
Cause if I pull my gun, you die |
|
No second try |
|
I gotta cool out now, so I don't over-freeze |
|
Nut up and start murderin MC's |
|
Start catchin bodies from state to state |
|
Throw on a ski mask and walk the streets late |
|
And do me up a whole damn crew |
|
The Geto Boys was trippin, but my mind's trickin me too |
|
Cause diss me, and I meet you one day |
|
And bet your life it won't be a fun day |
|
I hope, nigga, it's not your fate |
|
That you're around when the Ice breaks |
|
When the Ice breaks |
