Clean Lyric
Paragraph Lyric
Like the big funky
Nick named Eazy-E
Yo 8-Ball Junkie
Bass drum kickin
To show my sh*t
Rappin holdin my d*ck
Boy I dont quit
Loud wild mutha f*cka
From around the way
I gotta sick shooter
Yo mean hombre
Wanderin through the hood
To find the boys
To kick dust and cuss
Crank up the noise
Police on my drawers
I had to pause
40 ounce in my lap
And it's freezin my balls
Hooked a right turn
Let the boys go past
And I say to myself
'They can kiss my a**'
Stopped at a light
Put the 8 at my lips
Put in the old tape
Marvin Gayes Greatest hits
Turn the beat up
Have the base cold rompin
Crusin through the East Side
South of Compton
See a big a**
And I said 'word'
I took a look at the face
And the bitch was to the curb
Hoes on me
for the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's F*cked up
An got the 8-Ball rollin'

[Chorus]

(I was)
Whose Kickin' a**?
(I was)
Raised in LA
(I was)
Crusin down the street in my 6-4
Ridin Los Loses
Lookin for Crenshaw
Turned down the sound
To diss yo law
Stopped at a light
And had a fit
Cause a Mexican almost
Wreaked my shit
Flipped his a** off
Got into the car
My bottle was empty
So I went to the store
Nigga on tilt
Cause I was drunk
Seen a sissy a** punk
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 because
I had to show the nigga
What time it was
Put up the Jam
It ends like a mirage
A sissy like that
Got out to dodge
Suckers on me
For the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's F*cked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin

[Chorus]

Old East 800
Yeah thats my brand
Take it in a bottle
40, Quart, or Can
Drink it like a mad man
Yes I do
F**K the police
And a 502
Stepped in the party
I was drunk as hell
Three b**ches already said
'Eric yo breath smells'
40 ounce in hand
Thats what I got
(Yo man you see Eazy hurlin in a parking lot)
Stepped on yo foot
Cold dissed yo hoe
Asked her to dance
And she said 'hell no'
Called her a b**ch
Cause thats the rule
Boyz in the hood
Tryin to keep me cool
Dammit homeboy
You wanna kick my but
I walk in you face
And we get them up
I start droppin the dogs
And watch you fold
Straight dumb fulla cum
Got knocked out cold
(Made you look sick
you snotty nosed prick
now yo fly b**ch
is all over his d**k)
Fool got dropped
For the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's f*cked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin

[Chorus]

Pass the brew M*tha F*ckas
While I trash it up
And yall listen up close to role call:
Eazy-E's in the place
I got money and juice
Rondevues with me
And we make the duce
Dre makes the beat
So g*d damn funky
Do the old 8
F*ck the Brass Monkey
Ice Cube writes the words
That I say
Hail to the niggaz
From CIA
Cazy beat is down
And in effect
We make hard core jams
So fuck respect
They can toast public parking
To the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's f*cked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin
Like the big funky   Nick named Eazy-E   Yo 8-Ball Junkie   Bass drum kickin   To show my sh*t   Rappin holdin my d*ck   Boy I dont quit   Loud wild mutha f*cka   From around the way   I gotta sick shooter   Yo mean hombre   Wanderin through the hood   To find the boys   To kick dust and cuss   Crank up the noise   Police on my drawers   I had to pause   40 ounce in my lap   And it's freezin my balls   Hooked a right turn   Let the boys go past   And I say to myself   'They can kiss my a**'   Stopped at a light   Put the 8 at my lips   Put in the old tape   Marvin Gayes Greatest hits   Turn the beat up   Have the base cold rompin   Crusin through the East Side   South of Compton   See a big a**   And I said 'word'   I took a look at the face   And the bitch was to the curb   Hoes on me   for the title I'm holdin   Eazy-E's F*cked up   An got the 8-Ball rollin'     [Chorus]    (I was)   Whose Kickin' a**?   (I was)   Raised in LA   (I was)   Crusin down the street in my 6-4   Ridin Los Loses   Lookin for Crenshaw   Turned down the sound   To diss yo law   Stopped at a light   And had a fit   Cause a Mexican almost   Wreaked my shit   Flipped his a** off   Got into the car   My bottle was empty   So I went to the store   Nigga on tilt   Cause I was drunk   Seen a sissy a** punk   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 because   I had to show the nigga   What time it was   Put up the Jam   It ends like a mirage   A sissy like that   Got out to dodge   Suckers on me   For the title I'm holdin   Eazy-E's F*cked up   And got the 8-Ball rollin     [Chorus]    Old East 800   Yeah thats my brand   Take it in a bottle   40, Quart, or Can   Drink it like a mad man   Yes I do   F**K the police   And a 502   Stepped in the party   I was drunk as hell   Three b**ches already said   'Eric yo breath smells'   40 ounce in hand   Thats what I got   (Yo man you see Eazy hurlin in a parking lot)   Stepped on yo foot   Cold dissed yo hoe   Asked her to dance   And she said 'hell no'   Called her a b**ch   Cause thats the rule   Boyz in the hood   Tryin to keep me cool   Dammit homeboy   You wanna kick my but   I walk in you face   And we get them up   I start droppin the dogs   And watch you fold   Straight dumb fulla cum   Got knocked out cold   (Made you look sick   you snotty nosed prick   now yo fly b**ch   is all over his d**k)   Fool got dropped   For the title I'm holdin   Eazy-E's f*cked up   And got the 8-Ball rollin     [Chorus]    Pass the brew M*tha F*ckas   While I trash it up   And yall listen up close to role call:   Eazy-E's in the place   I got money and juice   Rondevues with me   And we make the duce   Dre makes the beat   So g*d damn funky   Do the old 8   F*ck the Brass Monkey   Ice Cube writes the words   That I say   Hail to the niggaz   From CIA   Cazy beat is down   And in effect   We make hard core jams   So fuck respect   They can toast public parking   To the title I'm holdin   Eazy-E's f*cked up   And got the 8-Ball rollin