Kunci: G major
Verse 1
Eb
A
G
Yeah! Right about now motherfucker
A
G
s is layin for a nigga like me Ice- T
A
G
To bust some freestyle shit...
A
G
but I don't do that
A
G
I just cold lounge up
here at the Ammo Dump
A
G
With my nigga Alladdin, SLJ, LP
A
G
and my nigga Henry G
A
G
Yeah, we do the shit like this
Verse 2
Am
G
The card after the ace is deuce
Am
G
So cut the nigga loose on the 3
That's me
The motherfuckin T
A
G
I got ride on my surfboard
G
But only buy the shit that
I can't afford
G
That's why I truck big fat rings
A
G
Cause in the motherland gold is for kings
Punks who try to act up
A
G
Do a world tour
Watch the big bank stack up
A
G
Motherfuckers get dropped
Eb
Am
with the quickness
G
I got an ill left and a right fist
A
G
Make mistakes
and you'll lose
Or you might die
A
G
Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your bruise
A
G
Meanwhile the penile is stacked
to the top with my niggaz
Mostly for squeezin triggas
I call em homies
Pigs call em crooks
So I write and put bucks on they books
Am
G
I give a fuck about a cop or a G- man
G
Eb
Their breath smellin like semen
A
G
I catch em in the alley all alone
G
Eb
Pop! Pop! Pop! To the dome
Verse 3
G
A
G
the G- style
Gangsta style
A
G
A
G
Verse 4
A
G
G Style, The gangsta talk
A
G
I got a teflon .9
And it eats vest
A
G
I take a motherfucker out quick
Just for talkin shit
A
G
Ride Rolls
Eb
Catch hoes like a mit t
A
G
LA, Atlanta, New York
Yo, my shit rocks
A
G
Chi- town, Miami, Detroit
I get much props
A
G
Because I roll with the hardcore G
Am
G
Every street's the same
street to me
That I get hit
A
G
Motherfuckers try to
Move and slip
G
Close the eyes and catch a fuckin clip
A
G
Not in the ghetto no more
But I do hang
A
G
Got a black game
Eb
And it's sittin on them thangs
A
G
I kick the game from the street
G
Eb
A
Tighten up my knockas with a big lead ham
Interlude 1
mer
G
A
G
Eb
A
G
Eb
A
G
Eb
Verse 5
G
I write my raps with extreme speed
G
Eb
I take the pen and make pads bleed
A
G
Eb
A
My mind clicks to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A
G
Some nights I can't right
A
G
Stare at the blue lines
I think I'm a go blind
Am
G
Then the beat becomes me
G
And write a whole fuckin LP
A
G
G Style, the gangsta talk
Eb
A
It's no sellout
Cause it's my thing
A
G
Packed with guns
And drugs
And lots of street slang
A
G
A
G
A- B- C- D- E- F, and LAPD
Words from a motherfuckin OG
A
G
Ammo Dump pumps the sounds
A
G
that you bump in your trunk
What'cha made of?
A
G
Pull the pin
Set the grenade off
A
G
Blastin sounds out ya jeep
A
G
On every city street, nigga
Interlude 2
Straight gangsta beat
A
G
Verse 6
A
G
Many like to dress the style,
and act hardcore
A
G
Many motherfuckers are
A
G
I like to lay in the cut
In a nightclub
A
G
But I gets loved, mack, cool
I scope the freak with the mad backs
A
G
Hit her with the gangsta style
Eb
A
Cool, relaxed, bam
A
Bump Too $hort, let her know
G
Eb
Right off the top, what's my sport
A
G
You think long
You think wrong
You got it goin on, baby doll?
Eb
G
But I won't sing you no love song
A
G
You either love me
Or you don't
A
G
You're either rollin tonight
A
G
She likes the style
Cause it don't bullshit around
A
G
Tounge in my ear, real slow
A
G
Eb
I gotta flip into a ill mode
A
G
Eb
Pack a clip full of hype tracks
G
Music for the hardcore beatdown
A
G
No weak pop shit
A
G
And if you don't like the style,
as I get wreck
A
G
Ease back nigga,
Eb
catch a knife through the neck
Outro 1
A
G
A
G
Eb
A
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