8 Ball

N.W.A.

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    (Kick that shit)
    (Cold kicking ass)
    Cold kicking ass
    Cold kicking ass
    (Funky fresh Eazy-E)
    (Pull up a chair and I'ma tear shit up)

    I don't drink brass monkey, like the beat funky
    Nickname Eazy-E, yo' 8 ball junkie
    Bass drum kicking to show my shit
    Rapper holdin' my dick, boy, I don't quit
    And if ain't rap, then you know it's crap
    Crowd rocking sucka stomper from around the way
    I got a six-shooter, yo, mean hombre
    E rolling out, to find the Boyz
    To kick dust and cuss, crank up some noise
    Police on my tail, I don't like jail
    40 ounce in my lap and and it's freezin' my balls
    Hook a right turn and let the boys go past
    Then I say to myself, they can kiss my ass
    Hip to get drunk got the eight in my lips
    Put in the old tape Marvin Gaye's Greatest Hits
    Turn the shit up had the bass cold whomping
    Cruising through the Eastside, South of Compton
    See a big ass, and I say word
    I took a look at her face, and the bitch was to the curb
    But she was on my tip for the title I'm holding
    Eazy-E's getting busy got the 8-ball rolling

    I, was cold kicking ass
    I, was raised in LA
    I, was cruising down the street in my six-four
    Too much posse

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    Riding on Slausson, looking for Crenshaw
    Turned down the sounds, to ditch the law
    Stopped at a light and had a fit
    Cause a Mexican almost wrecked my shit
    Flipped his ass off put it to the floor
    Bottle was empty so I went to the store
    Nigga on tip cause I was drunk
    See 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
    Pulled out the jammy and like a mirage
    A sissy like that got out of Dodge
    Sucka on me cause the title I'm holding
    Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rolling
    Fuck it up, y'all
    Fuck it up, y'all
    Fuck it up, y'all
    Fuck it up, y'all
    Fuck it up, y'all
    Fuck it up, y'all
    Yeah

    Olde English 800, because that's my brand
    Take it in a bottle, forty, quart or can
    Drink it like a madman, yes I do
    Fuck the police and a 502
    Stepped in the party, I was drunk as hell
    Three bitches already said: Eric yo' breath smells!
    40 ounce in hand that's what I got
    Yo man you see Eazy hurling in the parking lot
    Stepped on your foot cold dissed your ho
    Asked her to dance and she said: Hell no
    Called her a bitch because that's the rule Bitch?! Who you callin' a bitch?!
    Boyz-n-the hood trying to keep me cool
    Tell my homeboy you wanna kick my butt
    I walked in your face and we get em up
    I started dropping the dogs, and watch you fold
    Just dumb full of cum got knocked out cold
    Make you look sick you snotty-nosed prick!
    Now your fly bitches all over his dick!
    Punk got dropped cause the title I'm holding
    Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling

    Yo, pass the brew Ren while I tear shit up
    And y'all listen up close to roll call
    Eazy-E's in the place I got money and juice
    Ron-De-Vu's with me and we make the deuce
    Dre makes the beats so funk funk funky
    Do the Olde 8, forget the brass monkey
    Ice Cube writes the rhymes, that I say
    Hail to the niggas from CIA
    Krazy D is down and in effect
    We make hardcore jams, so fuck respect
    Make a toast all you punk to the title I'm holding
    Eazy-E's breaking out and got the 8-ball rolling
    Man I'm outta here
    Yo Eazy, you forgot to tell em what city you chill in
    In the city (city of Compton)
    In the city (city of Compton)
    City City City of Compton
    City City City of Compton
    City City City of Compton
    City City City of Compton
    City City City of Compton

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Ice Cube

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