8 Ball

Eazy-E

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    8 Ball by Eazy E
    Like the big funky
    Nick named Eazy-E
    Yo 8-Ball Junkie
    Bass drum kickin
    To show my shit
    Rappin holdin my dick
    Boy I dont quit
    Loud wild mutha fucka
    From around the way
    I gotta sick shooter
    Yo mean hombre
    Wanderin through the hood
    To find the boys
    To kick dust and cuss
    Crank up the noise
    Police on my drawers
    I had to pause
    40 ounce in my lap
    And it's freezin my balls
    Hooked a right turn
    Let the boys go past
    And I say to myself
    'They can kiss my ass
    Stopped at a light
    Put the 8 at my lips
    Put in the old tape
    Marvin Gayes Greatest hits
    Turn the beat up
    Have the base cold rompin
    Crusin through the East Side
    South of Compton
    See a big a**
    And I said 'word'
    I took a look at the face
    And the bitch was to the curb
    Hoes on me
    for the title I'm holdin
    Eazy-E's Fucked up
    An got the 8-Ball rollin'

    [Chorus]

    (I was)
    Whose Kickin' a**?
    (I was)
    Raised in LA
    (I was)
    Crusin down the street in my 6-4
    Ridin Los Loses
    Lookin for Crenshaw
    Turned down the sound
    To diss yo law
    Stopped at a light
    And had a fit
    Cause a Mexican almost
    Wreaked my shit
    Flipped his ass off
    Got into the car
    My bottle was empty
    So I went to the store
    Nigga on tilt
    Cause I was drunk
    Seen a sissy ass punk
    Had to go in my trunk
    Reached inside
    Cause it's like that
    Came back out
    With a silver gat
    Fired at the punk
    And it was all because
    I had to show the nigga
    What time it was
    Put up the Jam
    It ends like a mirage
    A sissy like that
    Got out to dodge
    Suckers on me
    For the title I'm holdin
    Eazy-E's Fucked up
    And got the 8-Ball rollin

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    [Chorus]

    Old East 800
    Yeah thats my brand
    Take it in a bottle
    40, Quart, or Can
    Drink it like a mad man
    Yes I do
    FucK the police
    And a 502
    Stepped in the party
    I was drunk as hell
    Three biches already said
    'Eric yo breath smells'
    40 ounce in hand
    Thats what I got
    (Yo man you see Eazy hurlin in a parking lot)
    Stepped on yo foot
    Cold dissed yo hoe
    Asked her to dance
    And she said 'hell no'
    Called her a b**ch
    Cause thats the rule
    Boyz in the hood
    Tryin to keep me cool
    Dammit homeboy
    You wanna kick my but
    I walk in you face
    And we get them up
    I start droppin the dogs
    And watch you fold
    Straight dumb fulla cum
    Got knocked out cold
    (Made you look sick
    you snotty nosed prick
    now yo fly bich
    is all over his dick)
    Fool got dropped
    For the title I'm holdin
    Eazy-E's fucked up
    And got the 8-Ball rollin

    [Chorus]

    Pass the brew Muthe fuckas
    While I trash it up
    And yall listen up close to role call:
    Eazy-E's in the place
    I got money and juice
    Rondevues with me
    And we make the duce
    Dre makes the beat
    So g*d damn funky
    Do the old 8
    F*ck the Brass Monkey
    Ice Cube writes the words
    That I say
    Hail to the niggaz
    From CIA
    Cazy beat is down
    And in effect
    We make hard core jams
    So fuck respect
    They can toast public parking
    To the title I'm holdin
    Eazy-E's f*cked up
    And got the 8-Ball rollin

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