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ice-t - freestyle/zip-lock lyrics
– originally performed in montreux, switzerland 1995
[intro: trigger tha gambler, m.o.p.]
come on switzerland!! jump!! jump!!
come on!! jump!! everybody jump!!
everybody jump!! everybody jump!!
everybody let me hear you say yeah!! (yeah!!)
say h-ll yeah!! (yell yeah!!)
say h-ll motherf-cking yeah!! (h-ll motherf-cking yeah!!)
now, scream!! (awwwwwwwwww!!)
switzerland!! (awwwwwwwwww!!)
come on scream!! (awwwwwwwwww!!)
yo t, let’s do this sh-t baby, dog
[verse one: ice-t]
is it new year god? i’m coming back mad hard
moving harder than a convict with a shack in the yard
new jacks wanna hear me rap, begging for freestyle sk!lls
i’ve served so many rappers, i can make a land field, fool
you’ve doubt for a mic dude, the ice is a jewel
f-ck rules, i got more pool than a mule
matter of fact, you never comprehend the styles i sin
i keep breaking to annihilate fakes and teens
the yellow n-gga from the westside cheered, i peel libs
what praying that you do, yo when i all ready did
like your girl gotta admit she was a s-xy b-tch
but i hit it with the jimmy so my nuts don’t itch
so just check as i pore for the mic core
the n-ggaz!! the n-gga!! the n-gga!!
six ounces, squeeze the trigger
for you hardcore motherf-ckers that’s been dying for.. this gangster sh-t
time to squab and rob and fight, hit til you through
i got a strain in my brain like pain
but n-ggas sucking up my sh-t like i’m some crack cocaine
to you white kids, you better watch your head
as you popping down the street by these words i said
[break: trigger tha gambler, m.o.p.]
montreux make some godd-mn noise!!
yeah!! come on!! uhh!!
get them up y’all!! yeah!!
come on man, let’s rip this sh-t!!
rip this sh-t up!!
[verse two: ice-t]
once again i’m back in the place to be
the i, the c, the e, the t
i’ll never get a grammy, so f-ck the g
all i need is crowd, and a m-i-c
got a gangster -ss dj named evil-e
my record label’s called warner b
william morris is my agent
i’ll never go broke, i got property
got a dope pitbull named felony
got four gold albums, so what you’re telling me?
power was two, iceberg was three
this one here shipped five hundred g
now when i roll, i roll stupid deep
benz’s, bemers, and booming jeeps
i’m always strapped, cause my money i keep
you move on the ice, and you’re going to sleep
but when you see me walking down the street
you say, “what’s up ice?” — what would i say, “peace!”
you give me a dap, i give you one back
cause i ain’t souped, so forget about that
we might take a picture or sign an autograph
kick a little flavor to have some fun and laugh
but step to me wrong, you might get shot
and wind up looking out a ziplock!!!
[outro]
yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!
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