1.I'm The Fuckin' Murderer
Intro
'heh, heh, heh heh listen, studio gangsta, studio gangsta
Studio gangsta, haven't you ever heard of a killa'
Verse 1
Ring-a-ding-a-ling i'm caught off
In this thang with the mutha fuckin' sawed off
Niggas that sleep don't wake up
Cause i'll put the gauge to your nuts
Have ya caughin' up piss and blood
Mark ass niggas don't get no love
The evil ass nigga from the f-a-c
Bustin' out the hersh with the g-a-t
I went to my nigga on the okland block
He passed me the glock said shoot the cop
Shit went crazy when i spilt the pig
Piggy in a blanet thats what we did
Ran down the alley hotwired a broham
Flashbacks of a bloody cop suckin' the chrome
I'm lookin' up at me nigga and his name is g
G cocked the glock and looked back at me
Me say my name is spice 1 i never heard a ya
My name is spice 1 i never heard a ya
My name is spice 1 i never heard a ya
But a, 187 is a murdera, byd-a-bye bye
(i'm the fuckin' murdera, i'm the fuckin' murdera
Haven't you ever heard of a killa) ---rbx
Verse 2
You see i roll down the ra-a-roll down the ba-a-block
Hand on the ha-a-hand on the ga-a-glock
Seventa-a-ta-a-teen sha-a-sha-a-shots
Seventeen na-a-niggas pa-a-pa-a-popped
My name is spa-a-spa-a-spice wiggedy-wa-a-one
My uzi wa-a-wa-a-weigh a ta-a-ta-a-ton
I kicks the ra-a-ra-a-red ra-a-ra-a-rum
And leave your ba-a-ba-a-body na-a-na-a-numb
So keep a nigga ka-a-keep a nigga ca-a-car
Lookin' for the la-a-lookin' for the ba-a-bar
Sell me a sa-a-sell me another o
Scatter from the pa-a-po pa-a-pa-a-poe
Hurry up and break this nigga for his keyes
Because his glizock is at my ba-a-balls i'm fa-a-freeze
The nigga with the na-a-nigga with the na-a-nine
Flatt mutha fuckin' flatt mutha fuckin' nine
( ) x2
Niggas da-a-da-a-don't understa-a-stand
I'm a ma-a-ma-a-mad ma-a-ma-a-man
Killin' for the ka-a-killin' for the ka-a-keyes
Keyes ka-a-ka-a-keyes ja-a-ja-a-g's
Dump a nigga da-a-dump a nigga in a ditch
380 on that na-a-nigga ass ba-a-bitch
Smobbin' wit the sma-a-smobbin' wit the ma-a-mug
Livin' like a la-a-livin' like a tha-a-thug
Gattin' niggas ga-a-gattin' niggas stra-a-strong
Uzi sa-a-sa-a-sang a sa-a-sa-a-song
Da-a-da-a-da-a-death wa-a-wa-a-wish
A cappin' ya a ca-a-cappin' ya out the dish
Whan a na-a-na-a-nigga sla-a-sla-a-slip
This hollow ha-a-ha-a-hollow ta-a-ta-a-tip
There ain't no safety on this double limb
I got seventeen shots one for you and one for all a them
Hos pushin' up daisies niggas can't fade me
I told you i was crazy ho, but no
You wanna fuck wit the gat rata-tat-tat
Murder fac and it's like that nigga shatt-ed
( ) x2
2.Dumpin' Em In Ditches
Ratta to the motherfuckin tat is how i stomp this
Much love for niggas that's sleepin up in the darkness
Cause i'm a crooked nigga 2 like pac
I do a 1-8-7 with this motherfuckin glock
Shot you in the body
Had to break the gat off in his ass at the party, nigga
Crazy as fuck, i thought you knew me
Quick to put the bullets up in the motherfuckin uzi, bitch
A og nigga, so i gotta g-o and creep slow
And get this nigga while he's steppin out his car door
Bust, bang, i let my nugs hang, chewed out my mustang
And let this motherfuckin gat sang
A bloody glock and a pocket full of rock
Got my shit on cock cause my slang don't stop
In the darkness i ain't the nigga who's slippin
I get the clip in, slam dunk it in the gat like scottie pippen
And watch these niggas scream like bitches
I break em off somethin proper
And dump they ass in ditches
Chorus：
1-8-7, dump the niggas up in ditches
Fat nina for the player hatin bitches
1-87, dump the niggas up in ditches
I got a fat nina for the player hatin bitches
1-87, dump the niggas up in ditches
Fat nina for the player hatin bitches
1-87, dump the niggas up in ditches
I got a fat nina for the player hatin bitches
Engrave my name on the motherfuckin hollow tip
A autograph from the nigga, killer, lunatic
13 for the birdy, fuckin him in the game
When i get my hands dirty, nigga
You wanna squab with the nina
Comin up, wanna gat you with this trigger happy finger, bitch
Still whoopin a nigga ass with some st. ide's
Jealous niggas be wantin to gat me because they can't rise
I sell my shit wherever i want to sell my shit
I dig a ditch and let him meet nina, my little bitch
Cause a nigga ain't soft
I fuck around and break every nigga in your hood off
Somethin proper cause i can't be caught slippin
7 in the mornin cookin keys in my kitchen
Here comes the pig bangin on my door
Screamin some shit about that 5.0
They must of seen me kill that man and run off in a hurry
Left the cola and the gats and the money cause a nigga done
Chorus 1／2
187 erupt, another motherfuckin walk by in your hood
I broke a gat in his ass because it's all good
And now the boys in blue wanna come after
The motherfuckin east bay gangster murder master!
I'ma make that bacon fry, if he keep followin me around
Fuckin off my indo high
Pigs don't notice shit, 1-87 is the nigga you're fuckin with
When i was young i used to get my gun
Fuck with the g.t.a and bust at they ass for fun
Put the piggy in a blanket and when the g.t.a stall
I'm fucked till i crank it
Then i'm 187,000 g with a warrant on head, layin d-e-a-d
My chrome gat shined like a sword
One motherfucker sent off to the morgue
Chorus 3／4
Yeah nigga, straight motherfuckin g's in nine-tre
My nigga g-nut, omar, dj motherfuckin extra large
187 fac dumpin motherfuckers in ditches in nine-tre
You know what i'm sayin？
E-a-ski, cm motherfuckin' t, you know what i'm sayin？
Niggas straight doin it, gangsta shit
3.Gas Chamber
(chorus)
Check muthafuckin 1 check 1-2
Shoot a muthafucka down what a nigga do
Check 1 check motherfuckin 1-2
Shoot a muthafucka down what a nigga do
Check muthafuckin 1 check 1-2
Shoot a muthafucka down what a nigga do
(spice 1)
Tschitty tschitty gang bang
Niggas wanna slang 'caine
But like i said before it's a ghetto thang
You wouldn't understand this
Cause at the tender age of 14 the gat was handed
I put in work to get the cash on
When a nigga stepped up close i got the blast on
And muthafuckas in my hood were down for that
Nigga what i packs, i packs it big phat
Muthafuckin ar-15
And fry that ass like sissaneen
Cause in the bay there are no red or no blue guys
Muthafuckas just drop life shoo flies
So when you come don't claim no blue or red
Cause these niggas will colour your ass dead
I gotta keep my tech-9 in the bushes
Made more mail than the rest of the pushers
I'm standin tough like wrangler
Niggas don't care if you're a crip or a blood
We are all get the gas chamber
(chorus)
(spice 1)
Break mine up became a slang word
Sellin that cooked up 'caine bird
Is a key to a muthafuckin g
Bustin caps in the mix back in 1983
So that's old school shit to me
I wanna live to see 23
But these niggas in the ghetto crave
To see a nigga layin dead in a fuckin grave
And i gots to come sick with it
I sold dope and crack and shit but didn't stick with it
Cause the boys in blue they got some new shit
A helicopter that you can't fuck with
And the funky-ass black on white
Ran blue lights with that engine somethin' tight
But 5-0 can't fuck with the 5.0
Cause i'm a old school nigga at the sat show
I whip shit and get the niggas straight stuck on
Pigs have a coke and a smile and get the fuck on
Cause i'm the same old nigga
Even though my pocket's phat my belly's bigger
I'm at the age 22
17 years old shit i probably gaffled you
But forget that shit because it's all good
And mr. rogers ain't got shit on my neighbourhood
Cause we was all young gangstas livin on a razor
Fucked with us and we sprayed you
But in '93 it ain't for you and me
Cause we're straight get the gas chamber
(chorus)
(spice 1)
Coughin......
On the real tho' partna
This is what a nigga's tryin to say
When you shoot the next muthafucka
You goin to jail regardless of what muthafuckin colour you got
on
You know i'm sayin
You gonna get the gas chamber regardless
So when i do this shit for some cash anyway
Like my lil' partna bushwick say：
'if shit don't make dollars, it don't make sense'
187 thousand g
4.187 He Wrote
I'm tryin to keep my aces and my deuces all together
I'm thinkin of self-murder i know i won't live forever
This chronic got me noid i need to get a job
But instead i wanna sell dope hang on a rope and steady mobb
I'm wakin up in the morning thinkin of death as i break out in a
cold sweat
I'm havin dreams of a whole family put to rest
Visions of a dead man body bags
And all the youngsters gettin their cap peeled over coloured
rags
I write about murder and death cause thats all in the hood
Comin up strong while in crack yo g its all good
Describin a way of life that they don't understand g
So imma keep breakin it down until dey understand me
You see its real g and jealousy it roam my block
Thats why i'm never leavin the house without my plastic glock
Cause if they want it they'll take it and kill for it
And if its worth sumptin then blood gettin spilled for it
My mother thinks i'm goin crazy
And when i leave the house she just stares out the window
I think i'm being followed everytime i leave my home
Havin these fatal thoughts of gettin chrome to my dome
18--187 me say the murder the murder he wrote
18--187 me say the murder the murder he wrote--- blooooow
Did things up in the past that i regret at 22
And when i hit 23 i hope i'm livin well as you
Its good to be alive in 93 i guess that so
But if i gotta go i gotta go i gotta go
I guess i'm just a soldier with a song out of the streets black
Stressin of that chronic sack but i feel death is knockin at my
bed
Sleep walkin with my pistol in the middle of the night
Wakin up inside my hooptie holdin my glock full of fright
Violent in this art thats only because its comin from a g to the
heart
Got friends that have died and i mourn for their families
Bringin flowers to dey graves everytime i get a chance g
Nuthin like a old school homie from the hood
Which are right or wrong doin dirt doin good
And now i know inside i'll never see my boy again
I fie myself always pour brew out fo my friends
Chorus
I'm keepin all my pictures from my homies up in jail
If i told you what dey did it will problably turn your pale
I used to hang wit killers and i didn't even know
Wrestlin wit my homies as a youngster age 4
Now half of dem is dead and the rest is in the jailhouse
Writin to me monthly givin they homies sumtin to rap about
Tell me do my music and don't trip off what dey say
Thinkin to myself i might just be in there one day
Some stayed about the big house and still slangin yay
And now dey stayin under diction of feds everyday
Tryin to wash their money they wanna go on tour g
Gettin into the business learn about the industry
Try to help em out doin everythang i can
I still gotta worry bout the next jealous man
My homies gettin robbed so they rob somebody else
You can see it never stops let that story tell itself
I'm walkin wit my head down pervin in the rain
Thinkin deep askin myself am i insane
I think about that daily and i'm leavin on that note
And thats the definition of the 187 that he wrote
Chorus
5.Don't Ring The Alarm(The Heist)
(spice-1)
It's the motherfuckin heist so don't ring the alarm 'g'
It's the b-o-s-s and the s-p-i-c-e
So, put this gat in your pants (right)
And we gonna rob these motherfuckers
For every nookie and cranny
My nigga g-n-u-t is up inside
He's trapped with the ak that's how us east bay niggas ride
Player, i'm gonna spray these cameras with this paint
And when i do, blow that bald ass security guard out his shoes
(boss)
Well aiyyo nigga gimme the shit
So boss can load a full clip
A trigger-happy bitch screamin 'get down'
Motherfuckers are makin us rich
Creepin in the bank, we tip-toe slowly they don't know me 'g'
Pullin lace to get rich with 187 faculty
Me and my glock to use my glock
Cause fire'll bomb the ak-a (uh)
The 187 posse rob the bank in their way-a
(boss)
My nigga g-nut whattup？
(nutter, cause we ain't ？pit？ stop)
I know we got the caddy in the lobby
For the robbery car to kill the cop
(spice-1)
Like bonnie ＆ clyde called it the motherfuckin stick-up
Pick-up any fool smooth i'll make this uzi wanna hiccup
So kick up the cash before i blast with this jason mask
Quit tryin to fuck with a psychopath
(chorus w／variations)
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
(boss)
We runnin up out the bank
Yelling 'clear' to the public
You probably never seen a bitch
That's showin you niggas how to properly fuckin huh
We rushed it to the getaway
We slid away niggas get done away
Then that loot is getting hid away
Livin in the fast watch the shit get hot as we were bailin
I'm givin a signal to my motherfuckin niggas trailin
And from behind a couple of pistols and some uzi's
And thinkin doin those niggas before them motherfuckers do me in
Its kind of simple shoot them in the temple
Search through them all i got my niggas from the ore
And motherfuckers are bore, uh
(spice-1)
Yo 'g' it's getting deeper and deeper
But yo i got the flavor for the motherfuckin fever
A fever for the flavor of the motherfuckin jet
I looked up in the bag 50g's, 100 stacks
My trigga gots no heart and yo it ain't no love bitch
Nigga, talkin about killin motherfuckers dumpin em in a ditch
I must survive 'g' they won't take me alive 'g'
Peepin out these niggas up in the van who been trailin me
The coppers are comin, deep as fuck so try to catch a thug
The only way i'm fallin is slippin on one of these niggas blood
I'm givin a fuck so yo whassup i feel a wild pitch
I'm gonna light this chronic and start some ok like corral shit
Then kill this bitch, and keep the cash, get my dash on
That's how we doin it in 93 i gets my blast on
We thought we ditched the coppers rolled up in the cat 'g'
I'm about to kill these motherfuckers that been followin me
I'm pullin my glock out i hear the helicopters comin
Pigs has us surrounded, dropped the loot and started runnin
(chorus w／ variations)
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
Don't ring the alarm 'g'
(＊several gun shots＊)
6.Clip And The Trigga
Yeah, the motherfuckin east bay gangster back in the house
A.k.a. mr. kill yo' ass
187 fac mothafucker
Nine-trey
G-nut in the motherfuckin house
Big john on that goddamn bass
I'm 22 with a motherfuckin beer belly
Some say i'm a og already
When i was young i had the lust to pull the trigger
Spice-1 the giggity gangsta nigga
Oh shit it's a glock and a clip
Put the clip in the glock put the glock by my jock
In my neighborhood niggas try to gat ya
Better watch out spice-1 is gettin' faster
Quick to let the dick hang
Listen to this bitch sing
Her name is mrs. mossberg i think i'm goin' nuts man
Better back up off me g, i think i'm blackin' out
And every time i do niggas get bucked in their mouth
I keep one in the chamber so i can get you first bitch
My nine is at your dome
I think i wanna burst this
Switchin' personalities to another nigga
Spice-1 is the clip ray(？) gangsta is the trigger
Soon to meet ya jah steppin' to me posse
The 187 is heartless like the ？？？
Mini me say now me the gangsta nigga with the ak
Tryin to sell ya dayton off the gta
Got to get me hustle get me scratch every day
Mini me say wa the ma jackin mothafucker slingin' yay
Come again now
Me me got to get me hustle every day
Mini me say wa the ma jackin mothafucker slingin' yayo
Bluh!
Chorus：
The clip and the trigga the clip and the trigga
Them niggas can't deal with the clip and the trigga
The clip and the trigga the clip and the trigga
Them niggas can't deal with the mothafuckin clip
(repeat chorus)
Shoot the heart out the back of a nigga that wanna squab with me
187 mothafucka steady mobbin' g
Kickin' the gangsta
Rollin' down the block smokin' indo
Cluckers owe me money what the fuck should i grin for？
187 proof
187 pure
187 up on that ass if you touch the door
Of my f-fly blue drop 'stang
Rollin' with the top down chitty-chitty gang bang
Coke slinger, make the gat sing a
Song for the niggas who wanna fuck me in the game up
Who the fuck is on a gaffle？
Leave your body half-full
When the hair-pin trigger pull
5-0 try to creep so i ran a
Check on my motherfuckin 8-channel scanner
Packin' 3 gats nigga with the weed hat
Never gettin feedback slinging yay, speed, crack
And anything on the black market
Jackin' niggas for their d-dana danes so you better park it
The mothafuckin gangsta nigga
Spice is the clip ray(？) gangsta is the trigger
Chorus (except slight variation)
So to meet ya jah steppin' to me posse
The 187 is heartless like the ？？？
Mini me say now me the gangsta nigga with the ak
Tryin to sell ya dayton off the gta
Got to get me hustle get me scratch every day
Mini me say wa the ma jackin mothafucker slingin' yay
Come again now
Me me got to get me hustle every day
Mini me say wa the ma jackin mothafucker slingin' yayo
Ya can't tell me shit about the mothafuckin clip
Ya can't say shit about the mothafuckin trigga
Them niggas can't fuck with me mothafuckin clip
Bluh!
Them niggas can't fuck with me mothafuckin trigga
Yeah fool
9-trey straight gangsta shit
Niggas get gatted up
Can't fuck with the 187 fac nigga we in your ass
Nigga with a gangsta lean
Yeah
Comin' out the mothafuckin bay area
Straight motherfuckin gangsta shit
Check it out
All y'all real-ass niggas just ride
187,000 g
7.Smoke Em Like A Blunt
(spice 1)
Chill man
Them niggas don't understand man
They don't understand about me
Bloaw, they got my glock man, me..
You wanna hear me trip you wanna hear me trigger man
You wanna hear that shit go bloaw？
Knowi'msayin we do it like that man
We got me glock and all that shit man
Me see me？you know what me do man？
You see me do like this：
Me killin man down to they finished
Blow em brains out, chill man, with a bye-bye
Killin man down to they finished
Blow em brains out, chill man
Come again now
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want
Me killin man down to they finished
Blow em brains out, chill man
Bloaw, the nigga short dog in the house
We out smokin him, smokin the ganja man
We don't give a fuck about the cops man
Fuck the 5-0 man, piggy in a blanket man
Me see like this
We do some reggae shit man
We do a little bit like this
Me tellin em like this man, me say：
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt, come again now
Got to let them squabble let the reggae sunsplasha
Let them leg in the fields spliff up in his ass-a
Got a tech-millimeter see me bout to put in word
Found my nigga down the street me see him jockin for his bird
Jockin for his bird yo was like 1, 2, 3
The giddily giggy gangsta s-p-i-c-e, come again now
I-c-e is see me jockin for his bird, bloaw, bloaw
Me blow him down like a, bloaw, bloaw, with a bye-bye
Bloaw, me say the 187 fac is in the house man
Me trigger on the motherfuckin old english
And sailors and all that crazy shit man
Me got peas all in the motherfuckin house man, bloaw
My nigga ant banks man me, me n？me nigga got his trigger in his
motherfuckin pocket
Like a fool mighty crazy like that man, me too man
Me say me got my glock and all that, bloaw
Me got my niggas in the studio
Them niggas crazy man, me say like g-nut man
The nigga got big knife man in the video man
He kickin shit the gangsta shit, bloaw
Me do it like this：
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt, bloaw
Let them niggas know that you're not playin with that shit man
Nine-tre 187000 g, 187 erupt motherfucker, bloaw
Killin man down to they finished
Blow em brains out, chill man
Me killin man down to they finished
Blow em brains out...
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see me smokin em like a blunt
Smoke em like a blunt
Ya see givin them what dem want..
8.The Murda Show
(spice-1)
Damn eiht
What the fuck we gonna do now？
(mc eiht)
I don't know homeboy youknowi'msayin？
But i'll tell you like this
We gonna bust some ass for the ninety-three shot
(spice-1)
Right, these motherfuckers don't understand
We ain't from around here
(mc eiht)
That's all right youknowi'msayin？
Cause we ain't takin no shorts youknowi'msayin？
Compton meets the motherfuckin bay town nigga
So step the fuck off this youknowi'msayin？
My nigga spice get with em
(spice-1)
Ya see i'm nothin but a mac-10 shooter
Killer man looter on the creep with the glock
Got it cocked picidy pop
I cold shot when the cop drop m-a-money gone nigga
Mind of a lunatic on a steel trigger
Motherfuckin flash backs of nigga's bodies rip
From the ak blast on that ass hollow point to the tip to the toe
Creep slow and watch the blood hit the fuckin flo'
It's the goddamn murda show
Starring a nigga in black wearin a weed hat creepin low
And co-starring is a psycho motherfucker
He grew up in compton bustin caps at the cluckers
His name is mc motherfuckin eiht
He got the uzi weigh a ton eatin niggas like a steak on a plate
So nigga get your popcorn and peanuts cause we nuts and we know
Sit back and watch a nigga murda at the murda show
(chorus： spice-1 ＆ mc eiht)
A to the motherfuckin k
187 proof ass nigga from the bay (murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from compton that's stompin
Raise up off my jock with the fools that i glock
A to the motherfuckin k
187 proof ass nigga from the bay (murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from compton that's stompin
Raise up off my jock with the fools that i glock
(mc eiht)
Nigga shut your fuckin trap, yeah your punk ass is sure
Sure that they sew when i peel your cap
The slide the slick, suck my dick
No mistaking i bring home greens, fuck the bacon
The big black neck getting motherfuckers sprung
They'll be put in the trash by this compton tongue
Eiht, spice-1, kickin much ass for fun
Ain't nothin but some nigga sold the one
Fools need to stay the fuck down
They can't hang when we bang from compton and the bay town
It's like the last dance or your last chance
When i reach in for the strap in my fuckin pants
I ？pump？ dead then the scene is fair ain't nothin said
Even your skinny ass dead, i can't sleep cause it's time to go
Fool or i'll be late for the murda show nigga
(chorus： spice-1 ＆ mc eiht)
A to the motherfuckin k
187 proof ass nigga from the bay (murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from compton that's stompin
Raise up off my jock with the niggas that i glock
A to the motherfuckin k
187 proof ass nigga from the bay (murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from compton that's stompin
Raise up off my jock with the fools that i glock
(spice-1)
Step in to the torture chamber nigga let me torture
Hangers on your motherfuckin back bring ya scorcher
Psychopathic madmen dead body chucker
Quick to pull the trigger on another motherfucker
Slangin to the bass head bitches in the alley
Killin for my motherfuckin money in recally
My nigga mc eiht will make the getaway drive
I got the gat hangin up out the motherfuckin ride
Niggas be getting the duck sit fuckin with the player, sprayer
layer
Nigga out with the shout of the t-t-tech, mic motherfuckin check
one
Stabbin niggas up in the lungs plus the caps with bloody guns
My uzi's got my back if player haters wanna jump
The motherfuckin hollow head his chest thump, thump
And all the niggas leave his bloody body in the dust
One-nigga dead seventeen caps bust
That's how the niggas do this shit where i'm from
Red-rum leave your body numb blast of the dumb, dumb
I got the glock and i'm headin for the liquor store
Me and eiht are two-eleven at the motherfuckin murda show
(chorus： spice-1 ＆ mc eiht)
A to the motherfuckin k
187 proof ass nigga from the bay (murda show)
Yeah, and it's the nigga from compton that's stompin
Raise up off my jock or you might get the glock
A to the motherfuckin k
187 proof ass nigga from the bay (murda show)
Yeah, and you ask me to stay the fuck down
Bangin from compton and the bay town
(mc eiht)
Yeah, come on
Uh, spice-1 and mc eiht
And that eases the nine youknowi'msayin？
9.380 On That Ass
(prodeje)
Go on, remember that shit you was kickin off
Peace to my motherfuckin nine
(spice-1)
Yeah i remember that old shit
(prodeje)
So are you gonna kick some of that shit on your new album or
what？
(spice-1)
Yeah, i'm gonna kick some of that shit
But ah, partner i don't even fuck with the nine no more half
(prodeje)
Man don't you know the nina is the shit？
(spice-1)
Motherfucker, one e-c-i-p-s is like a murderer
P-e-a-c-e to my motherfuckin nine servin ya
Cause i don't give a fuck who you are
Want an autograph bullet you can call me shootin star, nigga
I'm makin the murda shit to kick you in your ass a bit
380 puckin up on that ass come and test me bitch
You don't know who the fuck you're steppin to my nigga row
I'll bust a cap and leave that ass dead by the do'
My chrome is shining like new money and it's kinda funny
I keep one bullet up in the chamber (？？？？) sunny
Five and a piggy dumb, dumb bullets to his hollow tip
Thinkin 187 proof nigga come take a sip
I'm sick, as fuck i'll do a drive-by in a black hearse
And leave yo in the street for homicide i think 380 burst
187 on an undercover p-i-g
They better duck when they see the chrome 3-ad
I'm thin as see i'm suicidal i don't give a fuck
So if my face wrinkle up everybody duck
I rush a nigga bust a bigger hole in his ass
Cause hollow tip will fight a booty hoe when i blast
The bullet fucked ya when i bucked ya it was instant death
187,000 g motherfucker rest
The nigga tried to flip and unload the clip, i did the gangsta
shit
(chorus： spice-1)
380 on that ass bitch
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
Niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
N-niggas look crazy
(spice-1)
Me hit the block with my 3-ad
Them niggas ballin lookin kinda shady
They owe me money and they better pay me
My shit will fuck up ya posse with the s-c-c
380 talkin to me tellin me blow a nigga back
So listen closely to the echo of the clap
Hit the motherfuckin blocks and my niggas
My motherfuckin niggas with they fingers on the triggers
So now i gotta smob and p-p-p-pop, pop
And buck with that 380 until a motherfucker drop
It's in my car boy slammed it on a under-tip
I used to kill a motherfucker for his blunted grip
I let my cousin use the shit to jack the dana-danes
A g-t-a with jackin nigga left the bloodstain
On the seat of the car he thought i was a star
Said i was a studio gangsta so i shot his jaw
(chorus： spice-1)
380 on that ass bitch
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
Niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
N-niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
Niggas look crazy
B-blast at 380 (everybody duck)
N-niggas look crazy
(prodeje)
So why you quit fuckin with the nine？
(spice-1)
I got love for nina g but she won't fit in my motherfuckin top
(havikk)
Don't you know that nigga prod and hav fuck with the nine and
the 380？
(havoc)
I blow a niggas ass to hell that's why i bust so deep
I pack a fuckin 3-8-0 up in my motherfuckin sleep
I'll split your skull and mail your brains to your mama fool
380 leavin motherfuckers in a blood pool
So chase your skill better yet nigga run and hide
I do a nigga on the slide when i hoop ride
So nigga smilin eat the shells from the a-t-v
Or many yet build the caps down with the faculty
(havikk)
I'm ready to kill a nigga, quick i'm ready to kill a nigga
187 ways to heaven when i drill a nigga
Then kill a daisy motherfuckers with the pistol grippin
They ass is trippin because the nina gave that ass a whippin
The back-street way yard six feet digger
Loced out with the nine makin that ass shiver
The murders watch quickly smoked up
Buck, buck, block, block, bang, boom, boom niggas over
(prodeje)
I'll grab your heart and squeeze the motherfucker till it bursts
And tie your corpse to the bumper of my homies hearse
I pack a nine but yo i'm down to pack a 3-8-0
And pump some motherfuckin slugs up in yo' anus hole
So punk ？look up？ cause the s-p-i-c-e is strapped
And leave your brains pole sating in your fuckin lap
(havikk)
The cartel is for the killers the mobb piece rhymester giggy cap
peelers
The giddily fuckin faculty the prodeje the killers be the smokin
nigga quicker
380's on that asshole nigga
(chorus： spice-1)
B-blast at 380
Niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
B-blast at 380
N-niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
B-blast at 380
N-niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
B-blast at 380
N-niggas look crazy (everybody duck)
10.Mo' Mail
(e-40)
Ah fuck it
Ah y'all got your nigga e-40 in this motherfucker
I buzz i put a step in
(g-nut)
Kickin it in the fac house motherfucker
(e-40)
Ay, g-nut, spice, xtra-large
(g-nut)
Let em have it
(spice-1)
Went out the house i think it was a sunday
Nigga was runnin with drop top drop havin a fun-day
Kickin it with my niggas up on the block
Talkin shit drinkin 'crooked eye'
I got the fat head rush from the chocolate thai
I'm feelin good i wanna kick it and hang out
But when the drive-by hit this is the main route
What the fuck is my problem nigga？
I got a glock seventeen better gobble them
So why should i trip, load the clip, put the joint to my lip
Get the motherfuckin forty take a real ass nigga hit
I'm sittin on my gat thinkin shit is cool
Some niggaz roll up in an old school
I ain't trippin, ay ' you know this nigga's face
I heard the motherfuckin bass
Of a sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Musty dead bodies and a catty bump, trump
Smellin up the neighborhood lyin in the bushes
Somebody had mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
(e-40)
Yeah, i'm just a hustler
Yeah, i'm just a hustler
Yeah, i'm just a hustler
Spice-1, you know some hoes gonna go boy
Look here ay look here
They got schemes and scandals out there right？
When that funk is on this here
Check fan, the motherfucker gotta be about
As greasy as gravy in order to maintain
So society is a motherfucker ain't it？
Ay, whatta bout those niggas on your dick nigga？
Ice spit some shit about that shit nigga
(spice-1)
Get off my dick nigga get your own motherfuckers
Steady mobbin gaffle the motherfuckers cause my jobbing
Shootin up motherfuckers was my hobby
Stop the tech-eleven on two-eleven i did a robbery
Shot the mothefucker is grenades that i'll be livin
Lowin the motherfuckers like a new pair of levi's and
Used to think the cops were so motherfuckin friendly
Till they tied my cousin to a chair and broke his chin '
My homies motherfuckin head like a melon
Slavery is (？？？？？) of convicted felon
So dear mr. officer of the motherfuckin law
Rodney kind don't need a trial what was seen was what was saw
You could take the niggas up out the motherfuckin ghetto
But you can't take the ghetto up out the motherfuckin niggas
Can't you hear the voice of the niggas comin at cha？
Fuck you mr. president i think i wanna gat ya
I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the piles
(e-40)
I can't get enough, good, good
Good shit motherfucker good shit
I think i'm a little jet drunk motherfuck
Ay, look here ay i'm off this liquorice rainall boy
You understand that don't ya
Huh, you feel it
Ay, ay look here nigga, ay
What i want you to do boy, drop that ill shit
(spice-1)
I'll make this gat sing like motherfuckin mary j. blige
And reminisce on havin a nigga's last breath when he slowly die
Stang his ass in the chest with the hollow
Capped him in his thr-thr-throat so he can't swallow
R-a-rat t-a-tat put a buck in y'all
The motherfuckin six-foot chucky dog
Comin to play with the trigger of the ak
Another real ass nigga from the east bay
？w-e-l-l-t-e-p-r-o-o-f？
For the niggas who kid yourself by losin your fuckin death
Bloaw! bloaw!
Cap, we do it just like that
Quick to put a motherfucker brains in his lap
Smokin up a blunt as i reminisce
Of bloody body bags a motherfucker going nutty
Bloaw! bloaw!
Po' bust a knowledge route
Brown, notify his family, fuck it, send his fingers home
Cause the shit get major, put the ？montgomery？ number upon his
pager
Bitch don't fuck with me
I know a gang of niggas that will shoot it up with me
I need mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
(e-40)
It's the s-p-i-c-e with ya nigga e-40 (erick sermon)
Roll in to the curb and die
These motherfuckers don't understand this shit boy
This shit is so damn real man
Ay, nineteen ninety-tre-four-five
Ay, i got one of them
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
Mo' mail than the rest of the pushers
11.Runnin？out Da Crackhouse
Verse 1：
My old school homey took a fall
His blood hit the mutha fuckin wall
Ran to the trunk and got the ak cause the funk was on
It felt like christmas day
I got a present and it come with a banana clip
Santa claus mutha fucka meet the hollow tip
But let me get to the trunk so they fucked up
Now i out to explode, niggas suckin chrome up
Kick down the door and started spraying
My nigga on the ground eyes wide open dead layin
Busted a nigga in the back rat-a-tat-tat
His blood hit the floor first, i heard his back crack
Sounds of a mutha fuckin murder the ghetto got me insane
To my damn brain
Never leavin the house without my glock nine
You can stop crime, so i a cock mine
The other nigga had a baby mack, and he was off the crack
He shot and missed and i shot back
But we both hit the floor, what the fuck for
I caught a bullet up in my chest and i didn know
But the bulletproof vest was on g
So i kept buckin at his ass like a donkey
And when i tried to run and get out the pig put the glock to my
mouth
As i was...
Chorus：
Runnin out da crackhouse out da crackhouse
(repeat 3x , 4th = runnin out da mutha fuckin crackhouse)
Verse 2：
Cop had his finger on the mutha fuckin trigga
Screamin some shit about a barbecued nigga
I had a pocket full of ane and a bloody gat
I went insane when they blasted my cutty mack
He was my potna lackin (？？？？？)
But i don think he l be alive for too much long
I dropped the glock with a puzzeled look on my face
Cuz now i stuck with the dope and fuckin murder case
They threw me in the car and told me they that wanted a cut
And if i try to get away a mother fucka stuck
Excuse me officer but you can suck a nigga dick
He looked me in the eye and told his potna get the bitch
Slobberin at the mouth, mutha fuckin k-9
Put it in my face told me not to waste time
What my name？ spice mutha fuckin ace
Yelled fuck the pig, spit a loogey in his face
He let that goddamn k-9 go
Me and that bitch had it out on the floor
It went on for five minutes or less, teeth marks on my mutha
fuckin
Neck and chest
He took me down to the county, i seein？pictures of my niggas on
the
Wall for the bounty
I walked in with blood on my pants and niggas lookin at me like
a black
Charles manson
And i still had dope in my mouth cuz i fresh out da crackhouse,
out
Da crackhouse
12.Trigga Gots No Heart
＊ also appears on the menace ii society soundtrack
The trigga gots no heart (the trigga a trigga)
Verse 1
I'm sick up in this game
I'll take no secondary shorts ＆
Slam dunk these riddles up in yo' chest like jordan
Menace ii society mad man killer
Just call me the east bay gangsta
Neighborhood drug dealer
Quick to make decisions ＆ i'm
Quick to get my blast on
Do a 187 with this bloody jason mask on
Rollin' up out the cut deeper than atlantis
Tore his chest apart left his heart on the canvas
Now i gots mo' mayo than the rest of the pushers
Rat a tat tat tat came my tec from the bushes
I blast with no heart 'cause i'm heartless in nine-trey
A-k blast on that ass if in my way, gangsta
Slangin' 'cola since the very very start
Much love for this game so the trigga gots no heart
Ain't no love trick
The trigga gots no heart
(gunshot)
Verse 2
Release the trigga as i blast on a nigga
Nina put a cease on his timex ticker
And uhh playas he can't give me no love
'cause i'm stuck on the corna in the ghetto
Slangin' dub sacks
And i duck when they fly by
'cause killa cali' is the state for the drive-by
Caps peel from the gangstas in my hood
Ya better use that nina
'cause that deuce-deuce ain't no good
And umm i'm taking up a hobby
Maniac murderin' doin' massacre robbery
I'm twenty-two ＆ i'm still slangin' dub sacks
I gives the fiend some love but ain't no love back
Much love in this game ain't no love gangsta
187 is a art 'cause the trigga gots no heart
Ain't no love trick
The trigga gots no heart
Ain't no love trick
Me shootin' him up me shootin' him up
If he no give my pay
Ain't no love trick
Verse 3
The trigga gots no heart
＆ i'll be damned if i'm broke old
Pushin' on a shoppin cart
They blast on a friend of me
Another sad case of a mistaken identity
12 o' clock ＆ my 'hood's dubbin' pay back
I sat ＆ watched them shoot my homey
Seen his face crack
Uzis spray like raid on these cockroaches
A dropped bomb full of 187 soldiers
Doin' dirt 'cause we dirty when the trigga pull
Seventeen in his body left the boy full
Of hollow tips so i know he won't be comin' back
I let my hair platt ＆ let my mail stack
But my sweet sweet sunday had to turn tart
His posse came ＆ they triggas had no heart
Me kill all man say kill all man say
Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me glock glock
Kill all man say kill all man say
Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me glock glock
Kill all man say kill all man say
Kill 'em all man kill 'em all with me glock glock
Yeah mon blam! the 187 fact
Is back in the house man for nine-trey
This here see kill a man wit me glock
Blow!! 187 thousand g
13.Trigga Happy
Dope fiend willy：
Heh heh yeah goddamn it that old gangsta shit right there boy
goddamn
Shit heh heh
This is dope fiend willy from the last mutha fuckin record i
want the
Ten piece hey i got me some now i don give a fuck but uh huh
yeah you
All ain gonna know nothin bout this o.g. shit
Unless you start knowin sumpim about uzi and shit so uh？
Verse 1： spice 1
Now this 380 was a bitch who used to ho up on my block
She lived on smith-n-wesson with that pimp mr. glock
Now glock had many bitches, he sold pussy by the pound
And bitches jocked his trigga everytime he came around
Big baller, big game shooter until he met that crazy mutha fucka
mr.
Ruger
Now ruger was a pimp too, he had his own hoes
Mrs hollow tip and neener who wore ho sh clothes
G-string up the ass with the big fat clitoris
Drinkin that colt 45 cuz she a gangsta bitch
I love my neener and my neener loves me mutha fucka think i
crazy
Cuz i trigga happy
Chorus in the background：
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy nigga
(repeat 4x)
Dope fiend willie：
Heh heh, well goddamn smith-n-wesson, heh heh heh, i got me a
colt 45
Back at the mutha fuckin house heh heh, yeah i ready to do
somethin？with one of these little oloung mutha fucka heh heh
yeah, but i
Think maybe a ol？ ten piece hook me up mutha fucka i know you
got that
Shit
Yeah mutha fuckin dope fiend willie in the house, don give a
fuck
About no nigga heh mutha fucka shit.
Verse 2： spice 1
Mr snubnose slangin the yay out the bullet shed
And mrs mossberg blowin up his (？？？)
And the shit it don be gettin no better, you gotta watch for
that
Crooked ass cop officer beretta
Put your ass in a sling, check out that skinny ass bitch deuce
deuce
Thinking she miss thing
And mr tech nine lookin for some convo and he jammed and
stuttered when
He could had a hoe
But he still knockin boots from hell to heaven nigga got a page
about
Three feety seven
Gettin paid for the cot, so now he got a deal with that bitch
pimp mr
Glock
Chrous in the background：
(repeat 3x)
Dope fiend willie：
Yeah yeah i like that new shit boy yeah heh heh trigga happy,
trigga
Happy heh trigga happy nigga yeah i like that shit. i bout to go
Over here and talk to these girls over here damn baby what you
got on
And shit.
Verse 3： spice 1
Now every nigga wavin peace to the nine
Cuz glock hit the block in a jeep drinkin cheap wine
With his nigga ak drug kingpin gotta find mr technine do his ass
in
Niggas plottin hits plottin schemes but mr technine got an ar-15
An og nigga from the hood got his cash on rollin fly brooms
smokin
Chronic to the fuckin dome
And mr glock got the word from his people mr technine havin a
party
At the desert eagle
So right in front of the club when he checked his beeper
Technine blasted his ass with the street sweeper
Chorus in the background：
(repeat 4x)
Dope fiend willie：
(smoking) (coughing) goddamn shit fuck yall and your folks got
these
Days？ that old chronic shit look at that! goddamn boy let me get
Another hit of that shit ( smoking) goddamn (coughing)
You ol？trigga happy mutha fuckin youth
14.Rip
(spice 1)
Yeah, whassup？
Rip, shout-out to my dead partners
(spice 1)
My nigga went crazy he's trapped in a cell
He chopped off his fingers and sent them back in the mail
If life is a bitch, i'll pimp it just like a hoe
I make all my money from slangin ounces of coke
I shot up a bitch cuz she was fiend
She's spreadin information tryin to run off with my ring
I'm livin' in fear, motherfuckers wanna jack when
A 187 nigga's best friend is a mack 10
Niggas be rollin up on me and loadin the clip and say i'm
slippin
But i'm in a fucked up state of mind
And i'm packin a nine and i'm not trippin
Cause i'm strapped thinkin about my nigga took out in the game
R-i-p, plan b jessie was his name
So rest in peace, peace my nigga r-i-p
(chorus： spice 1)
R-i-p, r-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
Yeah whassup clean？
I ain't forgot about you homie
Johnny b whassup clay？
I ain't forgot about you either
Hope y'all tear this thang knahi'msayin？
Big dave, jr, six-o-mobb, yeah
(spice 1)
When i was young i had the lust to pull the trigger
So i know how it feels to shoot another nigga
Take one of mine i'll take ten of yours
You call up your posse i'll call up my boys
The funk, it was jumpin', but why should it jump？
Niggas with uzi's and hella niggas with pumps
Ready to spray do a nigga up proper
Did my boy in good chopped him up with the chopper
See some more from the north johnny b from the crew
Seen a nigga get blasted his bloody foot in his shoe
The bag the body the body the bag
From forties to funerals from chronic to zag's
I'm rollin up one for niggas that died
I go out to forty and hit the strip in my ride
And let down the top cause my top drop
Handle my glock incase i gotta pop
(chorus： spice 1)
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
Yeah fool whatta you know about my partners mark crowser
Y'all know nothin about erick ason
Y'all know nothin about big round sink knahi'msayin？
O.g.'s they got much love, marcus raine
(spice 1)
My nigga had bomb we called him big dave
Six slugs in the chest put my boy in the grave
I went to his house to get me a sack
His brother stood on the porch and told me the facts
Strange how it happened he went out for a night
Strange car drove up that's when the pistols went pop
Should i pull on the trigger and we bell on these niggas？
Should i roll up the endo hit throw up drunk offa liquor？
My memorials of my dead niggas on the wall
And when i die i know i'm dyin with a bullet y'all
But the nigga that take me out, he better have the clout
Because my niggas gonna chop your bloody body route
You know this nigga ain't afraid to die
Just write my name on the wall： gangsta s-p-i
C-e？r-i-p - rest in peace nigga
(chorus： spice 1)
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
R-i-p, rest in peace to dead niggas on the wall
15.All He Wrote
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