O.G. Original Gangster

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Lyrics

Ten years ago
 I used to listen to rappers flow
 Talkin' bout the way
 They rocked the mic at the disco
 I liked how that shit was goin' down
 Dreamt about ripping the mic with my own sound
 So I tried to write rhymes
 Somethin' like them, my boys said
 "That ain't you Ice
 That shit sounds like them."
 So I sat back, thought up a new track
 Didn'T fantasize, kicked the pure
 Facts. Motherfuckers got scared
 Cause they weas unprepaired
 Who would tell it how it relly was?
 Who dared?
 A motherfucker from the West Coast
 L.A. South Central fool
 Where the Crips and the Bloods play
 When I wrote about parties
 It didn't fit
 Six in the Mornin'
 That was the real shit
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 When I wrote about parties
 Someone always died
 When I tried to write happy
 Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime
 Why play ya blind?
 A simple look
 And anyone with two cents
 Would know I'm
 A hardcore player fromhe streets
 Rappin' bout hardcore topics
 Over hardcore drum beats
 A little different
 Than the average though
 Jet you thru the fast lane
 Drop ya on death row
 Cause anybody who's been there
 Knows that life ain't sho lovely
 On the blood-soaked fast track
 That invincible shit don't work
 Throw ya in a joint
 You'll be comin' out feet first
 So I blst the mic with my style
 Sometimes I'm ill
 The other times buck wild
 But the science is always there
 I'd be a true sucker
 If I acted like I didn'T care
 I rap for brothers just like myself
 Dazed by the game
 In a quest for extreme wealth
 But I kick it to you hard and real
 One wrong move, and you caps peeled
 I ain't no super hero
 I ain't no Marvel Comic
 But when it comes to game I'm atomic
 At droppin' it straight
 Point blank and untwisted
 No imagination needed, cause I lived it
 This ain't no fuckin' joke
 This shit is real to me
 I'm Ice-T
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 Two weeks ago I was out at the disco
 Two brothers stepped up to me
 And said
 "Hey yo, Ice
 We don't think you're down
 What set ya claimin'?"
 E drew the Glock, yo my set's aimin'!
 Dumb motherfucker
 Try to roll on me, please!
 I'm protected by a thousand emcees
 And hoodlums and hustlers
 And bangers with Jeri curls
 We won't even count the girls
 Cause they got my back
 And I got theirs too
 Fight for the streets
 When I'm on Oprah or Donahue
 They try to sweat a nigga
 But they just didn'T figure
 What my wit's as quick as a hair trigger
 "He's not your everyday-type
 Prankster."
 I'm Ice-T, the original gangster
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 So step to me
 If you think that you're ready to
 Got on your bullet proof?
 Well mine's goin' right thru
 This ain't no game to me
 It's hollow fame to me
 Without respect frome streets
 So I don't claim be
 The hardest motherfucker on earth
 Catch me slippin, I can even get worked
 But I don'T slip that often
 There's a coffin
 Waitin' for the brother
 Who comes off soft when
 The real fuckin' shit goes down
 Take a look around
 All them pussies can be found
 They talk a mean fight
 But fight like hoes
 I'm from South Central, fool
 Where everything goes
 Snatch you out your car so fast
 You'll get whiplash
 Numbers on your roof top
 For when the copters pass
 Gang bangers
 Don't carry no switch blades
 Every kid's got a Tec 9 or a
 Hand grenade
 Thirty-seven killed
 Last week in a crack war
 Hostges tied up
 And shot in a liquor store
 Nobody gives a fuck
 "The children have to go to school."
 Well, moms, good luck
 Cause the shit's fucked up bad
 I use my pad and pen
 And my lyrics break out mad
 I try to write about fun
 Andthe goodtimes
 But the pen yanks away and explodes
 And destroys the rhyme
 Maybe it's just cause of where I'm from
 L.A. that was a shot gun!
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Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:43
Key
7
Tempo
103 BPM

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