Eazy-E
Eazy-E - 8 Ball lyrics
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Verse 1: I don't drink brass monkey, like to be funky Nickname Eazy-E your 8 ball junkie Bass drum kickin', to show my shit Rap a hole in my dick, boy I don't quit Crowd rocking motherfucker from around the way I got a six shooter yo mean hombre Rolling through the hood to find the boys kick dust and cuss crank up some noise Police on my drawers, I have to pause 40 ounce in my lap and it's freezing my balls Hook a right turn and let the boys go past Then I say to myself, They can kiss my ass Hip to get drunk got the 8 in my lips Put in the old tape Marvin Gaye's greatest hits Turn the shit up had the bass cold whomping Cruising through the east side south of Compton See a big ass and I say word I took a look at the face, and the bitch was to the curb Hoes on my tip for the title I'm holding Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling Verse 2: Riding on Slauson down towards Crenshaw Turned down south, to dish the law Stopped at a light and had a fit, Cos a mexican almost wrecked my shit. Flipped his ass off, put it to the floor, Bottle was empty so I went to the store. Nigga on till cos I was drunk, See ya sissy as punk had to go in my trunk. Reached inside cos it's like that, Came back out with a silver Gat. Fired at the punk and it was all because I had to show the nigga what time it was. Verse 3: Put up the jam and, like a mirage, A sissy like that got out of Dodge. Sucker on me, cos the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 ball rollin' Old E's 800 cos that's my plan. Take it in a bottle, 40, quart, or can. Drink it like a madman, yes I do, Fuck the police, and a 5-0 too. Stepped at a party I was drunk as hell, Three bitches already said "Eric yo breath smells" 40-ounce in hand, that's what I got, "Yo man, you see Eazy hurlin' in the parkin' lot?" Stepped on yo foot, cold dissed yo ho, Asked her to dance and she said "Hell, no" Called her a bitch, cos that's the rule, Boys in the hood tryin to keep me cool. Tell me, homeboy, you wanna kick my butt? I walked in your face and we get em up. I start drivin the dog, and watch you fold, Just dumb, full of cum, got num dot co. "Make you look sick, ya snotty-nose prick, Now your fly bitch is all over his dick." Punk got dropped, cos the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8-ball rollin'. Verse 4: Pass the broom, motherfucker, while I tear shit up, And y'all listen up close to roll-call. Eazy-E's in the place, I got money and juice, Rendezvous with me and we make the deuce. Dre makes the beat so god-damn funky, Do the 0-8, fuck the brass monkey. Ice Cube writes the rhymes that I say, Hail to the niggas from CIA. Crazy D is down and in effect, We make hardcore jams, so fuck respect. Make a toast, pumpy pump to the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8-ball rollin.