Vi: Return Of The Real

(i cramp your style
With a bullet and a smile) --> onyx

[ verse 1 ]
Ugh, niggas on the d-l casin me out
Truckin my jewels, feelin for the tools
When they come they gots to come correct
Because they know i catch wreck
A well-known wild street vet
Step into the kill zone, baby, it's on
I pack the twin nine-mills that'll lift your dome
Chrome pump with double-eyed slots and such
A fully-auto mac-dime that is sure to touch
Ya, bust you with the desert eagle
Street legal, move against my peole
And the ice gets evil
Hit you with the .44 smith & wes-
Son, you're best to run cause my tec eats pests
I got a glock with the laser, hot police taser
Step in real close, i hit your throat with the razor
You wanna live or die, it's your decision
Talk shit, you're dissin, i got you in my night vision
Brain fragments on the street released
Another nigga fronts hard, another nigga deceased
I got a h.k., a.k. and a m-16
A 12-gauge street sweeper with the circular clip
Quick to let projectiles fly, you die
And watch your fat moms cry - bull's eye

(i cramp your style
With a bullet and a smile) --> onyx

What you think all the guns is for?

[ verse 2 ]
What's up, niggas don't seem to hear
Still lookin crazy, let me make this clear
Fool, the ice ain't havin it
And when i let loose lead, believe i'm accurate
Fat scope on a 30???6
Sawed-off double barrel and a pistol grip
Pump on my lap at all times
I fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimes
Thompson center spittin .45 slugs
Black mac-11, python .357
Snub-nose .38 or .380
Seventy automatic, full metal jackets
Hollow points comin atcha fast
You feel the slug before you hear the blast

(i cramp your style
With a bullet and a smile) --> onyx

Muthafuckas frontin hard
Lookin at niggas crazy and shit
Make a nigga break
Nigga don't want me to pull out

[ verse 3 ]
I don't like shootin but i do shoot straight
Niggas i be rollin with will shoot up a wake
Why you wanna step in the sights of a nigga
Known hair trigger, the coroner delivers
More cold bodies to the morgue each weekend
One minute you bleed, the next minute you're leakin
Best to listen close cause this ain't no boast
And never forget that i leave you wet
Bloody, sticky, holes in your dickey's
Oh what a pity, lookin all shitty
My winchester will get the best of ya
Hand grenades will fade all the rest of ya
I reach out and touch you with the parabellum
You got a crew, you better tell em

He yo, ice
This guy here say he wants to get in, man
You're sure homeboy's ready?
Yo ice, this nigga said he's ready, man
Yo, kid you're sure you wanna be down with this, right?
Yeah, i'm sure, i'm ready
Aight
Know what you're in for, right?

[ verse 1 ]
Blood flows like sands in the hourglass
Cash moves everything
Bitches in g strings
Gats flashin, mothers make cream on a stick move
Improve your dope flow
Cold max with the long dough
High rollin, back breakin plot diggers
The ill niggas
Comanche style
Blood letting weapons of death
Stop your breath
If you trip on the click
A hot thump to your chest
And your back just rips
You wanna be a made man
The fam accepts no mistakes
Chopped up bodies, lots of funeral wakes
Make your bones
Bring a rat back dead just ahead
A cop's better
Use this beretta
Snitch, bet your bitch
She in a pre-dug ditch
Cause i command a whole batallion of life takers
Plus the other bosses wanna see yo guts
Check your nuts
Dump the bodies in the desert
Here's the keys to a truck
Me, i'm overloaded, born hard and scarred
Crime intellect
More complex than nerves in your spinal chord
Bank job my forte
Not off of gunplay
Hostage taker
I killed my brother with a salt shaker
He tried to short me a buck
What the fuck?
A nigga that lies
Is a nigga that dies
No cries for the punk
He got trunked and bombed
Since he tried to steal i chainsawed his arm
I drink blood from a cup when i wanna then
Plus the bosses up north made me kill my friend
They told me, "this ain't no game, kid, you're in it
You're down with the syndicate, but never admit it"

[ chorus ]
Muthafucka, now you're down for life
Rat on the fam and we'll kill your wife
Fuck up a scam and you'll feel the knife
Who is this?
(the syndicate does not exist)

[ verse 2 ]
A thousand ki's, off-shore private yacht
Really ain't no sweat, coast guard and customs are bought
Columbian-mexicano connect
Raise the bet
One dea woudn't roll, we pulled his tongue through his neck
Just a message to the rest: don't test
Housing developments are built on the bodies
Of punks who wouldn't party
Big shots are called from the pen's inner sanctum
Where the mega-gees
Regulate the streets, fuck release
They got power that you can't comprehend, my friend
They want you dead, yo, you're dead before the daylight ends
Your eyes shiver and you grit your teeth
You sold your soul, now cold blood's how you get relief
Now you do what we do, say what i say
Muthafucka, don't blink unless i say okay
This is a organization, not a one-man gang
And you die if i ever hear you spilled my name

[ chorus ]

My friend, i thought this day would never come
(what do you mean, man? hey!)
Who was there when your wife had your first child?
(hey, why you're lookin at me like that, man?)
Who looked out for you when no one else was there?
(hey, i'm your friend, man!)
Now word's out you're talkin to the feds about me
(..they lyin, man)
There's only one thing i can do
(hey man, wait a -)
You treat me like a bitch
(hey yo - )
( *shots* )
Now look at you!
Look at you, muthafucka!
Now look at you!

[ verse 3 ]
Cops on the take, i got moves to make
Feds ain't that easy, i still got em to shake
They had my man's bitch wired for a month and a half
Snatched my nigga up in aspen, bail's five million
Bounced him out in a hour - power
Went and met him quick, hit him with a ice pick
Can't take no chances, he romancin with whores
No tellin what he spilled when behind closed doors
The fam's protection and loyalty is top priority
Violate, your body is found in three states
Cargo is heat on a hong kong cruiser
??? contact ???
No cash, they want a ton of crystal meth
High risk'll bring more riches than the national debt
We launder money through he s&l's and pro-ball teams
Ain't no business untouched when it comes to cream
Documents forged from my hitters from jamaica
In and out of town before you hit the ground
This is the mob, baby, now you're on, no off-switch
Suffocation ??? you snitch

[ chorus ]

[hen-gee]
Dear homie, whats the hap, since your up in the sky?
With god by your side
Homie what's it like?
I know your bein' treated right
No more worries
Plus you're bein heard g
I guess you know niggaz is still trippin
I don't know why, they see a future in it
We're headed for self-destruction
Can't function
Only thing i can do is pray
And thank god, for another day
Yes homie, it's rough down here. i gotta watch my back
Cos it's hard being black
If it ain't the other
It's my own colour
Tryin to work me
Tryin to hurt me
Ain't no l-o-v-e
Please tell me why, dear homie

[ice-t]
Dear homie, gang-bangin ain't joke
And i'm lookin over ya loc
Always knew there was fools out to get me
I didn't even hear the gunshots till after the slugs hit me
I grabbed for my chest and my neck, hopin
When my head hit the ground my skull busted open
You used to ask for my advice
Well dear homie, dyin ain't nothin nice
And the place i'm at is overpacked
With young blacks who crash crack and gats
I can only pray
You don't come this way
You gotta stay alive, you got a kid g
I feel ya partner but i worry alot
Bust shots
I know you're tryin' to comfort me
But i don't want no company, homie

[hen-gee]
Dear homie, even though you're gone
I still fell your presence
Sometimes i can sleep
Cos i just can't see
Reality like it really should be seen
I still reminisce on how we used to kick it
Strollin' the yard, just hangin' out together
Down for whatever, whenever
And now i'm hopin, you're seeing a true friend in me
We where meant to be

[ice-t]
Dear homie, you used to call me o.g.
Now ya really gotta look up to me
Cos the place i'm at, is way high in the sky
I didn't want to die
But the life i lived was just to reckless
Too many bad marks on god's checklist
And many many brothers will go out
Just tryin to get that hard-core street clout
But a street reps final test, is when you're lying in a coffin
With you're hands folded on your chest.
Then ya hear the girls cry
Then ya hear the brothers lie
Talkin' about how down you was
Then the next week the back on the street, they cold forgot ya cuz'.
Don't wanna see ya on your back,
So for me stay sucka free, cos you don't need that, homie.

Dear homie...
Dear homie...
Ya know i miss ya homie...

[ chorus ]
The fast lane, half heart, half money
Ain't nobody smilin, ain't nothin funny
Raise the risk, raise the profit
And can't nobody stop it
Unless your game's weak
So baby, don't sleep

The fast lane, half heart, half money
Ain't nobody smilin, ain't nothin funny
Raise the risk, raise the profit
And can't nobody stop it
Unless your game's weak
So player, don't sleep

[ verse 1 ]
The streets crawl with ill niggas on the block
Goin hand in hand
Leanin in and out of sedans
Pumpin crack dreams to crack fiends for a fee
Their dream is to re-up to a ki
Cops watch the influx of dope
Through a telescope
Snitches in the game
Give the young g's names
Bitches on the jock
Of the hustlers on the block
Jump from gee to gee
Similar to a flea
Suck the blood out, or in this case the dough
Roll with the blow till considered a hoe
Babies are born and pawned off to grandmama
The bitch ain't done, she still lives for the drama
Lookin for another baller
To hit and never call her
All in vain
Life in the lane
A new crew of hookers on the track from up north
Vice cops, they watch em stroll back and forth
They take a pay-off
Or a blow job just to lay off
The lane's no joke
Yo, you players stay broke
A ghetto garage makes a nice laboratory
Pcp and crystal meth, wars of glory
End of story, gotta watch my back myself
Or else they'll find my body layin on a coroner shelf
It's the lane

[ chorus ]

[ verse 2 ]
Gees take the game on the road to minnesota
Supermarket's all sold out on baking soda
Gangbangers start to understand the dope game fast
Kidnap the drug dealers for the ransom cash
Gotta represent, what you say you are, that's a star
Feds got a homing device on your car
That made you easy to follow to denver, colorado
Birds you had, 12 now you got a l
Crack babies born in the hospitals cryin
Drive-by shootings can't end, kids are dyin
The cream is the ultimate goal
Gots to roll
Till my cash flow's mega
Baller not a beggar
Bitches workin plastic with the fake id's
Life in the lane, stackin up g's
Chop shops taggin up benzes and beamers
Crack spots boilin full kilos in beakers
Damn, the game's quicker than shit, don't slip
Cause bet your life there'll be another hustler checkin yo grip
It's the lane

[ chorus ]

[ verse 3 ]
Brother on parole need a quick lick to come up
The score went bad, now he's back stuck
Bitches settin niggas up jacked and waxed
Small-time workers movin weight in a g ride lac
Don't talk on your cellular, your phone is tapped
Don't check the rear view, there's no turnin back
It's the lane, now you're in it, hit the gas and mash
Through the land of the hardcore hoes and cash
Jackers and robbers, hustlers and clockers
Everybody'll squeal, take the l or the deal
Yo, spin the wheel, for the cops you're a meal
Tailor suits gator boots make the fly hoes kneel
But if you miss, my friend, guess what you win
A one-way ticket to the federal state pen
It's the lane you chose, you fill your shit, ride rolls
High-priced clothes, baddest fuckin hoes
Anything goes, there's no limit, just mash
The cops will be there when you crash

[ chorus ]

[ice-t]
Yeah, shit is going down again!
This motherfuckers want me back in! fuck!
[method man: word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war!] 4x
Get out the h-k!
Fuck!

Niggaz talking crazy cause they say
That i kill one-a-day motherfucker
Sucker ass busters, did he, did not,
I got more drama with the niggaz from the other side
Call my nigga rich and he's right!

[big rich]
Fuck them niggaz i got a truck full of 38, some bullet shields
Ice, we can send this niggaz all to hell
I never like them niggaz from the gat
Go use to braken my craps and fuck all the motherfuckin hoes!

[ice-t]
Made another car-hit 30 killers on the hip,
Ready to rock, packin, eggin and glocks
Man connections who trips the question
Niggaz on the way to play in a laser rain.

[big rich]
Nigga you got two strikes and i got two strikes
We can feudally no fuckin witness tonight
But if this is what they want is like christmas to me
It's been a long time since the big rich caught a body

[ice-t]
Fuck it, i like the way you think my man
I pack 20 motherfuckers in a ??? van
We bash abd creeo about 12:30, dirty
Nigga be ready to roll, i know you heard me!

[big rich]
Nigga it's on, so don't trip i'm down
I got to saw ??? and i'm ready to claw
Bless the nigga in the face kill his fuckin hoe,
Ice, you don't did this kind of shit with me before!

[method man: word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war!] 8x
They want me back in!
Niggaz want me back in!
They want me back in!
Damn!

[ice-t]
Niggaz wanne ill, but my nigga get iller,
Streets full of hardcore stone-face killers,
One love my nigga big rich puff
I don't get high, i wanne see some niggaz die!

[big rich]
Yo, some niggaz hit the corner with the lights of ice,
That shit don't look nuthin nice,
But if this niggaz wanne rollin my hood,
Yo then fuck it, brake out the whole world, boys fuckin buck it.

[ice-t]
Niggaz pulled out my crew is ready
Me turn the fire rock the punks steady
When they shoot and stop car look like confetti
Went my ass home jump back in the bed g

[big rich]
Fuck why they wanna fuck with us
When they know my posse is crazy and they down to bust
Big rich take no shit from these busta ass tricks
Check your punk ass nigga like check a bitch

[ice-t]
I got no love for no nigga flippin, trippin on my fam
Got damn, i make l.a. hot as vietnam
But ill niggaz should be left alone,
Please excuse me, while i rest my dome!

[method man: word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war!] 8x
They want me back in
Niggaz want me back in
They want me back in
Why......niggaz want me back in?

Ice-t back in that ass
Return of the real
Muthafuckas fakin and frontin like they don't know what time it is
Niggas on the streets ain't really got a muthafuckin choice
Muthafucka

(so niggas is forced to do dirt) --> prodigy

Born hustler

I only run with real niggas who wear gold and jewels
Diamond rings, strapped with tools
I take no shorts cause i been in it for the long one, the strong one
Gotta tell the truth, yo, half my niggas is on the run
Street giant defiant to the laws
That the white man made, nigga
That's why we play, nigga
A/k/a the street hustler from the westside
Too damn fly, too much finesse for the hoo ride
I rather take a mark off smooth
Cause the skilll of a hustler is to stick and move
And make you say: "damn, what's his name?
Got to give a nigga props cause the kid got game"
Mad game, fool, i base my hustle not on strength
But think, you say 'the liqor store', i say 'brinks'
Cause my mind's on the massive roll of the dice
The magnitude of my game's insane, precise

So now you're mad cause i got money and you don't
The hustlers win, the busters won't
What can i say, you can't come out and play
With the real ones, dig this
You'll get broke with the quickness
I don't gamble, i cheat when it's on
Two g's on the table, two in my palm
And if i spill up, i pull the nickel .25 strap
Then the place gets flat and then i'm out the back
With my niggas and them 4's on thangs
And if i really wanna floss i flex my bentley wings
Damn, over your head, got a problem
Keepin lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve em
But the game's extreme so quit your high beams
And increase the light, now can you see me, you might
If you ever been to jail or shot, sold rocks
I'm talkin 'bout weight down like movin ki's and pounds
But every nigga in the hood ain't fly
Light-skinned or dark, they're 90% marks
Straight vics and they got money to give
Then without em tell, me how the hell a hustler lives..

I got no love for a lame
I use my strategy from crack to rap, no shame
And now instead of cooking some ki's
I'm flippin million dollar ??? call em wack mc's
But suckers got it twisted, they missed it
Wastin they life when yo, they mentally gifted
The streets ain't the only fuckin hustle in town
You gotta get in where you fit in, gotta stay way down
But a buster is a buster for life
He makes excuses why his ass ain't pay
That shit's played
Cash rules everything around me, kid
I hit a 50'000 lick and never did no bid
Cause i'm bent on a come-up and my shit stays tight
How many fake gangsta rappers will i hear tonight?
It don't matter cause the real don't care
You know i'ma gonna get mine, so i'ma let em get theirs
But i know in the heart what's true
So if you listen very closely, maybe you will too
My mind's blown off armani suits
Pavet medaillons, [name] boots
Cristal and steak, shrimp big as your hand
I bought a silk robe and it's from siam
This jam's for the hoods and thugs
Pimps and hoes, the slingers of drugs
Hustlers and thieves, cons and crooks
Bookers and sharks, muthafuck the marks
Nigga

Ice-t, nigga
Representin
Strictly westside, nigga
South central in the muthafuckin hiddouse
Check the technique, nigga
Representin for my real niggas out there
Fuck all you buster-ass niggas
Word

[ verse 1 ]
Saturday night in l.a., time to play
My peoples hummin like a vibrator, gotta make crime pay
I'm packin two gats and i wish i could carry more
Might sound crazy, but i ran out of slugs before
Yeah, i know the feds watch me
But my vest clashes hard with the versace
So i'm just rollin in the black five hun'
I used to lowride, now it's just for fun
I had 5 cars, but now i got one
Hard to keep up ballin when you're on the run
I got two ki's in my trunk and a shovel
Stepped on the one, so now i gots double
The shovel's for drama, need i say more?
Got the fat stash spot under my passenger floor
That's for the other strap, the automatic type
I gotta keep it close in case shit gets hype
Got a bitch in jail, she didn't snitch, she did three
I'ma have to roll solo till they set her free
Cause i got some other crimeys down, true gees
But they got all day, so now it's just me
And i'ma kick this slang until the day i die
I can't go straight, i won't even try
I'm stuck in the game, so don't ask me why
It's life in l.a.

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Long beach and compton are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where the shit goes down

[ verse 2 ]
Now niggas like they credit and they like to get they loans on
So i hooked up with my boy who turns them phones on
He told me bout this nigga who won't pay
He also said he knew excactly where the muthafucka stay
So i went and got some homies i hang with
Some crazy muthafuckas who i used to bang with
We took a trip to his crib
I snatched his hoe and his kids, and this is what we did
I tied they punk ass up
I cracked the safe with an axe, and then the phones we cut
I didn't hurt his wife
But i promised next time that i would take her life
I shot a nigga in his neck for disrespect, caught a body
Got a murder in miami for a shoot-out at a party
Got blood in my trunk from a punk who squealed
Had a partner tried to play me and his cap i peeled
Now i rest with my finger on my heater
Hand on my beeper, a light sleeper

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
New york and philly are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where my shit goes down

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Frisco and oakland are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where my shit goes down

[ verse 3 ]
I use to sling enough water you could float a boat
You could ski on the mountains of fuckin coke
But now most niggas serve chronic
So i let em check the bank, and then i'm all up on it
I serve em with a cute hoe
In a week they tell my bitches 'bout all they dough
Then i jack and i kill
The jack's for the money, the kill's for thrills
I got 9'000 blacks that still serve crack
Got a bitch who works the plaza too on the track
Got a gta connection and i fence for jewels
Got some little kids that move my fuckin dope in schools
Got warrants for arrest in about 20 states
Got a bigger body count than fuckin norman bates
I'm a killer, jacker, dealer, pimp supreme
I'm livin out the hustler dream

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Houston and atlanta are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where that shit goes down

[ verse 4 ]
Tonight i gotta meet this nigga from around the way
Some think he's cool, i think he's dea
He said he want it bad, he heard that i got it good
I bagged up ten ki's of flour and met him in the hood
I met him at my spot, cause i know it's cool
Pat him down on sight to remove his tool
I made him name 10 niggas he should know
But that still ain't shit in the game of blow
He asked to see the dope, i asked to see the cash
He reached for that briefcase too fast
A fuckin pig, yo, he thought he had the chump
I had my nigga in the closet with a bull pump
And now there's fuckin shot-up body all on the floor
But that's what the shovel's for...

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Newark and miami are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where my shit goes down

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
Detroit and chicago are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where that shit goes down

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
D.c. and cleveland are some down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where the shit goes down

I lowride and i sag and cuss
I cover my face with the rag and bust
I know all my niggas live in down-ass towns
But south central l.a. is where my shit goes down