8 Ball Lyrics

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' muthaf*cka 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 f*cked 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 f*cked 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
f*ck 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 f*cked 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 muthaf*cka 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 muthaf*ckin' funky
Do the Olde 8
f*ck 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 f*ck respect
Make a toast blue beast to the title I'm holdin'
Bullet Loc's f*cked 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

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