Eazy-E

Eazy-E - 8 Ball songtekst

Je score:


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.
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Taal: Engels

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