Paroles de 8-ball


pochette album 8-ball
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sonnerie téléphone portable pour 8-ball
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I dont drink *** monkey
Like the beat funky
Nick name eazy-e
Yo 8-ball junkie
Bass drum kickin
To show my sh*t
Rappin holdin of my d*ck
Boy i dont quit
Crime rappin mutha f*cka
>from around the way
I gotta sick shooter
Yo mean hombre
Rollin through the hood
To find the boys
Kick dust and cuss
Crank up some noise
Police on my drawers
I have to pause
40 ounce in my lap
And it's freezin my balls
I hooked a right turn
Let the boys go past
And i say to myself
'they can kiss my a**'
** get drunk got the 8 in my lips
Put in the old tape
Marvin gayes greatest hits
Turn the shit 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
Hoe on my tipp
For the title i'm holdin
Eazy-e's f*cked up
An got the 8-ball rollin'
(i was)
Who kickin' a**?
(i was)
Raised in la
(i was)
Crusin down the street in my 6-4
(to much posse)
Ridin los loses
Lookin for crenshaw
Turned down the sound
To diss the law
Stopped at a light
And had a fit
Cause a mexican almost
Wreaked my shit
Flipped his a** off
** to the floor
Bottle was empty
So i went to the store
Nigga on tilt
Cause i was drunk
Seen a sissy a** 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 of dodge
Suckers on me
For the title i'm holdin
Eazy-e's f*cked up
And got the 8-ball rollin
(fuck it up ya`ll) x6
Old east 800
'cause thats my brand
Take it in a bottle
40, quart, or can
Drink it like a mad man
Yes i do
F**k the police
And a 502
Stepped in the party
I was drunk as hell
Three b**ches 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
You tell my homeboy
You wanna kick my but
I walked in your 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 b**ch
Is all over his d**k)
Punk got dropped
For the title i'm holdin
Eazy-e's f*cked up
And got the 8-ball rollin
Pass the brew m*tha f*ckas
While i trash shit 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 rhymes
That i say
Hail to the niggaz
>from cia
Cazy beat/d is down
And in effect
We make hard core jams
So fuck respect
Make a toast toast puppy punk
To the title i'm holdin
Eazy-e's f*cked up
And got the 8-ball rollin

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