smacked the fuck up, you know Can't put me in jail You can't even fuck with me 'Cause I'm the craziest motherfucker on the street Don't anybody want none
killer, cop killer Cop killer, cop killer what you're gonna be when you grown up? Cop killer, good choice, cop killer I'ma motherfuckin' cop killer [Chorus: Ice-T
shit And every other nigga that rap, sound like my shit I wear chrome 45's with ice on the grip I don't shoot it, I roll with killers and criminals
no way out) It takes heart just to live in these streets You niggaz let the heat take the bitter with the sweet They can?t hurt me no more than they already did They killed
. P. Diddy: It takes heart just to live in these streets. You niggaz let the heat take the bitter with the sweet. They can't hurt me no more than they already did. They killed
win they want you to lose I don't floss no more, I drop jewels They hope we might chill the heights real Still we got fire that will melt your ice grill
a street walking by Keep a running for your life cause only one will survive War is in the street and it's an eye for an eye Run on for your life or you
so don't trip, I'm down I got soul dough shawty and I'm ready to clown Bless the nigga in the face, kill his fuckin hoe Ice, you don't did this kind of
Yo Ice - We heard what happened man We heard some niggas ran in on you man Yeah yeah, shit was fucked up man, it was real fucked up Don't worry - We
monster of the city streets Remotely controlled by hard hip hop beats But just livin' in the city is a serious task Didn't know what the cops wanted Didn't
ain't cryin Soldier no doubt He looked you dead in the eye Said "get that money" checked out Ballin bent him back in the black S T S but where he
smile What you think all the guns is for? What's up, niggas don't seem to hear Still lookin' crazy, let me make this clear Fool, the Ice ain't havin
bright, smooth as Ice, sex and dust Ante up the goods, Top Gun Ice-T in your neck of the woods I'm 15 blocks deep in the foreign neighborhood Street
of players listenin to the seventh deadly sin Short dawg is doin his thing with my nigga ice-t Dont fake the funk [ice-t] Ice-t baby, this goes out
, get, get your moneyman (Ice-T baby) Get, get, get, get, get, get, get, get, get your moneyman (Chorus: Ice-T) Rock your hammers back cussers that
't connect to the New York streets So we took the bandanas and we tied 'em up Roll up in the studio and laid it rough ! Ice Cube and them niggaz with
