Tekster: Ice T. O.G. Original Gangster. Pulse of the Rhyme.

Just checkin' my microphone once as I test your audio
Increase the bass response hopin' the speakers blow
I got no time to sit and flip and pop bullshit
Turn up your stereo hops, insert the rhyme clip
Roll your windows up, make sure it's air tight
E.Q. the track exact so shit sounds right
I rhyme of death and darkness and danger
Your crib or car becomes a torture chamber

I write my rhymes with violence
What you expect? Sounds of pain
The snap of a broken neck
All alone in darkness I sit each night
Write my rhymes with blood upon a butcher knife
You say, "The Ice is ill", an' ill I am
They try to ban my shit and I don't give a damn
Roll up, your eye will get swoll up

Suckers who flexed yo, their deaths got tolled up, holled up
'Cause I'm not the nigga to toy with boy with the big mouth
Ya got time to riff? There's time to take you out
Put a couple caps in your ass, cut your head off
Send it to your mom with flowers 'cause I'm so soft
Lay on your wack crew, smoke the whole bunch
Bury 'em in my back yard and then I'll eat lunch
'Cause I don't give a fuck about you or him or her
Whenever I'm in the house a death just might occur

Is this real or fiction?
You'll never know
While you're locked to the
Pulse of the rhyme flow

Once I lock you up, you can't get loose
You stuck your head inside and I placed the noose
The mic drips juice slow from the steel mesh
My words feel like hooks underneath your flesh
Makin' you twist and turn, scorch and burn
When will you learn? The ninties are my turn
To pitch a vocal fit like the ultimate
Gangster rhyme yo, I invented the shit

Watch me do it, as I do it, and I do it right
Grab the gauge, Duct tape and the flashlight
Don the black ski mask an' come to your house
Cut off your power and do you with the lights out

Is this real or fiction?
Well, you'll never know
While you're locked to the
Pulse of the rhyme flow

A pool of blood and floating body parts would make me grin
A close view of a razor when it's breaking skin
If you were burnin' I'd use gasoline to put you out
'Cause I walk alone and choose the dark route
Nightmares gotta be loved by some and I'm the one
Ya wanna come, bring your shotgun

You ever see your partner die?
No? Well I have
You ever see your father die?
No? Well I have
You ever see your mother die?
No? Well I have

So shut the fuck up, punk and clear the rhyme path
What would make feel calm and nice is a slow slice
Through your jugular and windpipe
Throw me in jail, I won't even try to make bail
Put me in the gas chamber and watch me inhale

Is this true or false?
Well, you'll never know
While you're locked to the
Pulse of the rhyme flow

Jason, Tales of the Crypt and the Dark Side
Another fly murder, another suicide
Did these flicks have an influence on my brain?
I really doubt that shit I think that I was born insane
When I was young I had a lust for knives and guns
Use a magnifying glass to fry an ant with the sun

And on and on my love for death got bigger
At fifteen I was placed behind a trigger
Although I'm dirty not the one to be swept up
Step up, I'd love to open your chest up
I've got no concept of life or death
Placin' my hands on your neck
All I want is your last breath

Give me a motherfuckin' break, I should behave
Give me a motherfuckin' shovel, I'll dig graves
I break ill in extra large portions
Where's your parents? I'll make you an orphan
So when you're talkin' crazy, you better think of me
The I, to the C, to the E, to the fuckin' T
There'll be no screams, no tears or cries
Just a laser beam between your fuckin' eyes

You feel strange
So now you know
That you're locked to the
Pulse of the rhyme flow