Kick that shit...



I don't drink brass monkey

Like to be funky

Nickname Bullet Loc

Your 8-ball junkie

Bass drum kickin' to show my shit

Rockin', holdin' my dick

Boy

I don't quit

Crowd rockin' muthafucka from around the way

I got a six-shooter, yo, mean I'm brave

Rollin' 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's in my lap and it's freezin' my balls

Hook a right turn, 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 on high on

Cruisin' through the East Side, South ??

Seen the bitch ass

Then I say word

Took a look at the face and the bitch was street curb

Ho's on my dick for the title I'm holdin'

Bullet Loc fucked up and got the 8-ball rollin



[Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock] In the cityyyyy

[Flavor Flav] Kick that shit



Ridin' on ??? weed is on ???

Turned down the sound

And ditch the law

Stopped at a light and had a fit

Cause old bitch almost wrecked my shit

Flipped his ass off, put it to the floor

Bottle was empty so I went to the store

Nigga on tilt cause I was drunk

See an enemy on mine, had to go in my trunk

Reached inside cause it's like that

Came back out with a silver gat

Fired at the punk and it was all ?? cause

I had to show the nigga what time it was

Pulled out the heat

And like a mirage

A busta like that got out of dodge

Sucker's on me cause the title I'm holdin'

Bullet Loc's fucked up and got the 8 ball rollin'



[Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock] In the cityyyyy

[Flavor Flav] Kick that shit



Olde English 800 cause that's my brand

Take it in a bottle, 40, quart or can

Drink it like a madman, yes I do

Fuck the police and the 5.0 too

Stepped in the party, I was drunk as hell

3 bitches already said: "Ohh Bullet your breath smells!"

40 ounce in hand

That's what I got

(Yo, you see Bullet earlin' in the parkin lot?)

Stepped on your foot, cold dissed your ho'

Asked her to dance and she said: "Hell no!"

Called her a bitch cause that's the rule

(Bitch, who d'you callin' a bitch?)

Boyz in the hood tryin' to keep me cool

Tell your homeboy you wanna kick my butt

I walked in your face and we get 'em up

I start droppin' the dogs

And watch you fold

Just dumb full of cum, got knocked out cold

(Ah aha, made you look sick you snotty nosed prick

 Now your fly bitch is all over his dick)

Punk got dropped cause the title I'm holdin'

Bullet Loc fucked up and got the 8-ball rollin'



[Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock] In the cityyyyy

[Flavor Flav] Kick that shit



Pass the brew muthafucka while I tear shit up

And y'all listen up close to roll call

Bullet Loc's in this bitch, I got money and juice

Blue crooks with me and we make the deuce

Ant Banks makes the beats so muthafuckin' funky

Do the Olde 8

Fuck the brass monkey

I write all the rhymes

That I say

Hail to the niggas from C.I.A.

Blue Tray is down and in effect

We make hardcore jams so fuck respect

Make a toast blue beast to the title I'm holdin'

Bullet Loc's fucked up and got the 8-ball rollin'



[Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock] In the cityyyyy



Yeah yeah nigga

Bullet Loc is in this biotch

Rest In Peace to my nigga Eazy-E

Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha what!



In the cityyyyy (San Diego)

[Flavor Flav] Kick that shit

In the cityyyyy (San Diego)

[Flavor Flav] Kick that shit