Ice-t intro:
Well alright. spice 1 in the hiddouse
(and short dawgs in the house bitch).
With the l.a. players (soldiers to the game you know? ) yeah.
(peep game fool).
Ant banks at the crackhouse
Ha ha ha better recognize game when its in your face bitch).
Ice-t:
Its obvious mad cash got me gassed
Shark tanks and views millionaire cruise buying cars in twos
"never lose" my motto since birth
Double up knots and crack spots
Snitches lead out by silence gun shots
Map the area I wanted to cut the fuckin cops a deal
If they dont kneel, they get peeled
Bitches recognize I never have no drama with death
Bustas always try I leavin em gagging spittin up flem
Take a pen make a mil and if this shit dont sell
I still got the street powder back to flippin flower
South central nigga what?
The representer, damn your girl seen me comin and ran
Young enough to be my daughter
My posse use to flip her like a quarter
To state to my man for man slaughter
Caught her in the stairway took her out the fairway
Trunked the punk bitch (thats fair play)
Hook:
Youve got the gangstas that I have tangled baby
Bitch recognize game when its in your face
"well alright chall" "ha ha ha"
Too short:
You think the town rid of short?
You must be crazy, that silly shit you talkin just dont faze me
I could make a phone call and just like that
A bunch of niggas from oakland all on your back
Ive never been a shot caller just a nigga in a crew
They call me too short but Im still bigger than you bitch
I been around you can take a turn but dont get burned
Ive seen the tables turn
Marks turn into killers rich niggas go broke
Use to be a wanna but now Im old school short
In the game never had the stacks since age 14
I been spittin these raps soakin up the game up
And even when I came up I fucked with same folks
Still did the same stuff
Bitch short dawgs in the house
I know you want my dick cause its all in your mouth
Hook
Spice 1:
Picture the game as a quarter toss it up in the air (uh ha)
Heads or tails win or lose broke niggas are players (x2)
Say what up to the s.p. crooked i.c.e.
Ra rolling with the strap on the side of me
Potna dont get it twisted up I got hollow tips extended clips
Major chips lookin at eclipse jacussi dips
Niggas step back I dont know you
Dont get to close to me
Some niggas aint really the motherfucker they suppose to be
Cloud killers dont aim until you shoot in the air
Better put it down and brake some hoes off like a true player
Phoney as three dollar bills niggas aint recognizin
Fell in the relapse besides Im a trauma a nigga
Look in the eyes and when you see me I be hardcore
What the fuck a real nigga gotta lie to kick it for?
Im tired of these bubblegum ass niggas
Throwin monkey wrenches into the game
And all the players and pimps feel my pain
Hustlers maintainin riches and keepin presidentals
Not artfical with fishin niggas know Im packin missles
Get me two bentleys some houses johnson jet skis
Ballin till I die nigga dont fuck with s.p.i.
Hook
