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| Ice-T O.G. (Original Gangster) Mic Contract Brainstorm microphone napalm This is it, words from a timebomb Attack speed, fast as an F15 Raise the heat, light thhe gasoline Overload, it might cause a blackout Dead end There's no chnce to back out Hit the tripwire Duck from the gunfire Broken glass, screech'n car tires, bodies hit the deck As I commence to wreck Eject another clip and drip sweat Face of danger, increasin' nger Point blank I smoke another stranger Grip the mic tight I see the brake lights Hit the back door I lay down cross the floor E's on the wheels He makes the rubber squel Blood's on my gear From caps I've peeled About a block away I sit up Look back It wasn't nothin' but a Microphone contract! Dressed in black I stalk my prey Parabellum in a leather attache Low tones I speak, I speak to few Just give me the money and who the fuck to do Four blocks away my aim's clean Night scope on a silence carbine Place my crosshairs on my vic's eye Squeeze the trigger Watch the brains fly Violent? Yeah you could call me that Insane? You're on the right track But turn the sounds up So I can stay amped Do another crew and breaak camp The only way I sleep is in a cold sweat You think I'm crazy? You ain't see shit yet Cause I love to kill and kill for fun The microphone goes off Like a handgun It's goin' down now Grab your girl hops No excuses when the bodies begin to drop Look in my face fool It look like I'm play'n Don't become another Victim of mic slayin' What's up? You want your feet in some concrete? I got some brothers That'll do you for gold teeth But most the time I move, I move alone Take a bat Break your motherfuckin' dome Shoot you dead in the face With a sawed off One hundred ten degrees Ice don't get soft Cause I'm hard as they come I come correct You can't handle the vandal hit eject If not you better get Out my face sucka Or else you better be A good bullet ducker Cause I'm a rip shop Tell that ass drop Five o Ice, yo fuck a damn cop! Cause I move hard and cold With a gangster stroll Five thousand dollar suits And fly gold Rolex, you can't fit no more Diamonds on it Pinky ring, worth a house If I decide to pwn it What's up now punk? Yo start to choke up? You try to move on the Ice You'll get broke up! Midnight, time for a homicide Showtime, somebody's gonna die E hits the switch And thouands of volts connect With the weapon that's in my fist I see a sucka in the third row Try'n to riff A paragraph and a half he's stiff I start bustin' off barrages ear high Mothers grab for their children Tears fly I'm like a psycho In the mircrophone zone Speakers blown, mind gone I can't be touched Once my lyrics begin to fly Simple stage radiation Could make ya die Ya got a prob nigga you think your rep's bigger? Hold your heard right there While I squeeze the trigger Cause I'm a crazy motherfucker That's no joke My favorite smell is The aroma of gunsmoke I'm bustin' off another Lyrical nightmare Parents hate the Ice! You think that I care? Well I don't give a fuck Cause I rhyme tough Drop science, still bust the ill stuff So now it's time for crime And the rhyme is mine Track the movement Hide from the punchline I rhyme with quickness Microphone fitness The assassinator Stay off the shit list |
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