Viewing Lyrics for Ice MF T:

Artist:T Ice
Taken from the album Home Invasion by T Ice
Album:Home Invasion
Track:Ice MF T
Date Added:18/10/2007
Rating:not yet rated     
Lyrics:Yeah! 1993 I'm back motherfucker this is Ice T.
Got my nigga Ice Cube in the motherfuckin
Yeah! Up here in the ammo dump studios I got my
nigga Aladdin SLJ's in the
motherfuckin place
behind the mixin boards
we about to do dis shit like this here!

Verse 1:

It's goin down tonight in L.A.
Buckshot and uzis
Microphone blowa
The bitch checka
The ho wrecka
motherfuckin T
Nigga step to me
But grab ya hoes quick
Cause the Syndicate's
throwin that crazy dick
Punk motherfuckers run up
You'll get done up
have your ass gunned up
Before sun-up
So what's the color I'm raggin?
Been a
millionare for years
Still saggin
Left pocket's stuffed with the ???
.380 in
my right so it sags a little bit
More than the rest of my gear
When I'm on tour

I empty clips
Bust lips
And break jaws
Cause I love to loc up

So punk motherfucker don't choke up
When you're talkin to me


Ice, Ice motherfuckin T (x4)

Verse 2:

Bush, Quayle and
Clinton got a problem with me:
The motheruckin T
I give less than a fuck about any
of them
Or their fuckin police friends
They'd like to take me out
Make me a
They even tryin to sweat Time Warner
For tellin the truth to the
That a lot of motherfuckers are hot
And want police shot?
You can't
stop the shock (?)
The fires are out
But the coals are still hot
I got juice
to bring pain
You tryin to fuck with the Ice
Are you insane?
This shit is
bigger than me
Be warned
It's the calm before the storm
And every fuckin
thing I write
Is gonna be analyzed by somebody white


Verse 3:

Run motherfucker, hide motherfucker, trip motherfucker, die motherfucker

You don't give love
And you won't get loved
You don't push
And you
won't get shoved
No joke
I ain't here to laugh
I ain't here to cry

But every night of the week
One of my homies die
Eeny meeny mynie moe

Blood's pourin out the naps of your afro
It could be you
Could be you
be you
Could be your whole damn crew
It happens real quick
Screechin tires

Next thing you're hit
Your body's cold
Your body's hot
You feel your
You gasp for breath
You're shot
And now your homies is trippin'

Lookin for a gat to put they clip in
Street crime-
That's the thing I bring,
Ice T
I rap ??? sing
They call it controversy
I call it truth with no mercy

The beats are phat Ammo Dump tracks
The kind that make speakers crack
made for squares
Or the weak punks
That made the bump trunks

Get the fuck out my fuckin face
I ain't got no more time to waste
A ho is a ho, a
bitch is a bitch, a nigga is a nigga
And that's it
I'm through explainin the shit

You just makin me backtrack
The next duck reporter might get hit with a blackjack

Every one of my true fans
Totally understands
A nigga like me

Chorus (x2
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