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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 Letras de cancionesMarvin 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 From Letras Mania