N.W.A. - 8 Ball Lyrics

Lyrics 8 Ball - N.W.A.



Spin that shit
City of Compton
City of Compton
Cool kickin′ ass
Cool kickin' ass
Cool kickin′ ass
Spin that shit
Pull up a chair
I don't drink brass monkey, like the beat funky
Nickname Eazy-E your 8 ball junkie
Bass drum kicking, to show my shit
Rap a hole in my dick, boy, I don't quit
Crowd rocking motherfucker from around the way
I got a six shooter yo′ mean I am brave
Rolling through the hood to find the boys
Kick dust and cuss crank up some noise
Police on my drawers
I have to pause 40 ounce in my lap and it′s freezing my balls
I hook right turn and let the boys go past
Then I say to myself, "They can kiss my ass"
Hip to get drunk got the 8 in my lips
Put in the old tape Marvin Gaye's greatest hits
Turn the shit up had the bass cold whomping
Cruising through the east side south of Compton
See a big ass and I say word
I took a look at the face, and the bitch was to the curb
Hoes on my tip for the title I′m holding
Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling
I was, cool kickin′ ass
I was, raised in L.A
I was, cruising down the street in my six fo'
Riding on Slauson looking for Crenshaw
Turned down the sound to ditch the law
Stopped at a light and had a fit
Cause a Mexican almost wrecked my shit
Flipped his ass off put it to the floor
Bottle was empty so I went to the store
Nigga on tip cause I was drunk
See a sissy ass 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 nigger what time it was
Pulled out the jammy and like a mirage
A sissy like that got out of Dodge
Sucka on me cause the title I'm holding
Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rolling
Fuck it up y′all
Fuck it up y′all
Fuck it up y'all
Fuck it up y′all
Fuck it up y'all
Fuck it up y′all
YEAH
Olde English 800 cause that's my brand
Take it in a bottle, 40, quart, or can
Drink it like a madman yes I do
Fuck the police and a 5-0 Two
Stepped in the park I was drunk as hell
Three bitches already said, "Eric your breath smells!"
40 ounce in hand that′s what I got
"Yo man you see Eazy urlin' in the parking lot?"
Stepped on your foot cold dissed your hoe
Asked her to dance and she said, "Hell No!"
Called her a bitch cause that's the rule
Boyz n tha Hood trying to keep me cool
Tell my homeboy you wanna kick my butt
I walked in your face and we get on up
I start dropping the dogs and watch you fall
Just dumb full of cum got knocked out cold
"Make you look sick you snotty nosed prick!
Now your fly bitches is all over his dick!"
Punk got dropped cause the title I′m holding
Eazy-E′s fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling
Pass the brew mother fucker while I tear shit up
And yall listen up close to roll call
Eazy-E's in the place I got money and juice
Rendezvous with me and we make the deuce
Dre makes the beats so goddamn funky
Do the Olde 8 fuck the brass monkey
Ice Cube writes the rhymes, that I say
Hail to the niggas from CIA
Crazy D is down and in effect
We make hard core jams so fuck respect
Make a toast all you punks to the title I′m holding
Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 ball rolling
City of Compton
City of Compton
City, city
City of
City, city
City of
City, city
City of
City, city
City of
City, city
City of
City, city
City of
City, city
City of
City, city
City of



Writer(s): Andre Young, O'shea Jackson, Roger Troutman, Larry Troutman


N.W.A. - The Best of N.W.A - The Strength of Street Knowledge




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