[ verse 1 ]
Murder, murder, murder muthafuckas
Yeah, Im short, but my boys cause ruckus
Its the nigga thats icey like a popsicle
Its like the jail when it comes to clockin every nickel
You want static with the fac, bring that ass on
Tec-9 to the dome, nigga, live in traum
I gotta get on the muthafuckin grind
Find a spot in the bushes for my nine
Cause niggas dont sleep on the spot
And if you do, you be the first to get got
So dont get caught on the slip
Pack a double m or a pistol grip
Robbin muthafuckas to stay alive
Cause in the ghetto only the strong survive
And o.g.s, they can tell when the task hit
New jacks try to run and get they ass split
And a nine aint shootin blanks
Its the cop who had a fucked up day and a little drink
Get a thrill for a kill, a trigger to a nigga
The feel of the black steel make him quiver
I got love for my jammie, its a damn shame
But I aint the one to get fucked in the game
Fucked in the game
[ verse 2 ]
A to the muthafuckin z
So close your eyes, grip your dick and count to three
If my dome is tried to fuck
I drag your ass through a alley and chop you up
I aint takin no shorts, gee
I kill your dog and your baby and your muthafuckin family
Let spice hold the double m
I fuck around and go nuts and shoot up her and him
Cause it aint no thang to let my dick hang
Gunshot bang, had to fuck him up, mayn
So now Im watchin every nigga with a hawk eye
Put on a wig just like them homies doin walk-by
I think I need to see the wiz cause Im heartless
Leave a lotta muthafuckas headless
Cap-cap-cap
Leave a nigga brains pulsatin in his lap
You get a hole in your chest without the vest
Its like messy marvin, leave a mess
Another black-ass nigga with a glock in his drawers
Gettin paid off the muthafuckin ashpalt
So if you wanna step to a nigga though
Im pluggin muthafuckas up like a stereo
I got love for my jammie, its a damn shame
But I aint the one to get fucked in the game
Fucked in the game
I aint the one
[ verse 3 ]
Boom-boom to the head, now your body numb
Put a hot one up in that ass, thats where Im comin from
12 oclock at night, nigga, up in the cut
Slingin caine and twump sacks, so what the fuck?
Livin like a muthafuckin sewer rat
Put away the nine, got a newer gat
Put the beam on a muthafucka fohead
Emptied up the goddamn clip and left mo dead
4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Got 5 caps left, 5 niggas got 8
To the dome, to the muthafuckin dome
Duck quick as fuck when I reach for the chrome
I got the vest, I got the vest
But he didnt get to it fore the slug hit his chest
Smokin muthafuckas up like doja
A nigga thats crazy and dyin to explode ya
187 up in the house, can you fuck with it?
Its like a car that crashed, so buckle up with it
Hot bullets make a nigga fry
A good night for a muthafuckin walk-by
Like bbd give me the gat and ima do ya
Like a hooker on a saturday night Im quick to screw ya
Cause you the pussy waitin to get fucked by the fucker
Servin lemonheads to the cluckers
I got love for my jammie, its a damn shame
But I aint the one to get fucked in the game
Fucked in the game
Yeah
All yall niggas out there in the muthafuckin spot
Yall better watch yall back
Niggas aint bullshittin in 92
Put a hole in your chest without the vest
Spice 1, real name Robert L. Green, is an American rapper from Oakland, California. Active since 1989, he is considered one of the pioneers of the West Coast hip hop movement. Known for his aggressive style and sharp rhymes, Spice 1 has collaborated with artists like Snoop Dogg and Too $hort. Some of his most representative tracks include "Foe Life", "The Streets" and "Ain't Nothin' But a G Thang". Throughout his career, he has released several successful albums, including "Spice 1" (1992) and "Amerikaz Most Wanted" (1993).
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