1.1990-sick(Kill em All)
Chorus：
Kill em all (4x)
Cause everybody dyin on this motherfuckin album
Kill em all (4x)
Don't kick up in the dirt when i'm puttin in work
Kill em all (4x)
Cause everybody dyin on this motherfuckin album
I murda like this (this) i murda like that (that)
Pull an ak-47 up out my motherfuckin gangsta hat
Professional, columiban, necktie, barbwire
Strangula, over killa, dead fuckin body hanga
Peepin out the window with an a.k., pullin up on these copper
Helicoptas, squad cars, swat teams with choppers
They tellin me, 'nigga, get the fuck out before ya die
If you surrender, we'll make sure that you quickly fry'
Should i kick open the door and go to war
Or should i stick my throat
Leave a pipe bomb and a fuck you note
Hallucinations of seein lynched bodies burnin
And all the po-po had faces like mark fuhrman
Tear gas through my glass window pane
They wanna put me back up in the nut house again
But i'm not goin back and take my prozac
They can keep the straight jacket
And leave a straight motherfuckin jack
A straight motherfuckin jack
A straight motherfuckin jack
Chorus
(get the hell off my dick, i'm 1990-sick)
(1990-sick) ＊repeat 4x＊
Nigga's to pull the lynch, yayo case and stick
Marcia clark screamin out murda, jumpin on oj's dick
Motherfuckers still sufferin and healin
Some high tech knowledga white boys blew up the fuckin fed
buildin
Crazy niggaz still bangin and slangin crack
To the death, when the game put em up on they back
Motherfuckers catchin aids, from shootin hop
And phony niggaz still get sprayed up on the block
And i ain't changed much, hell
I'm still smokin four or five motherfuckin choppers before it's
twelve
Motherfuckers think they know me, but they don't know
I'm sellin first class tickets to the murda show
Don't wanna rap about no nigga, let's get it on
Bustin domes, buck shots through your rib bone
So all you niggaz up in the magazines talkin shit
Get off my dick, i'm 1990-sick
Chorus
1990-sick, i grasp my dick
The lunatic quick to grab my tech
Put slugs up in your neck
Compton is the city where i come from
Desert eagle packin dum ditty ditty dum
I won't just smoke you
I be terrifyin horrifyin gyeah i'ma choke you
The killa niggaz on hop
We tear up your spot, eiht, spice, and my fuckin nigga pac
Don't cross my path, no class
I be like shit in your motherfuckin ass
Bullets i spit at you, your hood i slid through
Evil niggaz tryin to get rid of you
No witnesses so don't ask no questions
Flee the scene, one-time'll be arrestin
Killa niggaz don't play that
It's compton on no like your dome we stompin
But in that gang affiliation
Shit goes pop, we won't stop
Uhhh, in 1990-sick
Chorus： repeat 2x
(get the hell off my dick, i'm 1990-sick)
(1990-sick) ＊repeat 4x＊
2.Dirty Bay
Verse one：spice-1
Born to die but hard to kill, a buh-buh-ballin ass timer
Blow a hole up in your chest like the fuckin una-bomber
Your arms still bleedin fifty feet from your body
Your 40 ounce threw way back to the other side of the party
You was fuckin with a killa, your potnahs tried to tell you
But you didn't listen, now your whole chest missin in action
Cause i'm kidnappin motherfucker's souls
Leavin holes in they bodies when they go
I pops out the motherfuckin chevy 350 ragtop
Still bustin down the fuckin block, the killin don't stop
We regulate the co-kayana in a hoggish manna
It's like you fuckin with the man-a, tony montana
We sent some killas, to murda all the ones you love
Chainsaw your motherfuckin ass up in the bathtub
Another murda, another fucked up day
Some more drama, fucked in the dirty bay
Chorus： spice-1
Sittin on the dock of the dirty bay, waitin for my yea)
I might have to use my ak
(repeat 2x, vary 3rd = that ak, repeat)
Verse two： spice-1
I back for these keys, if they ain't have me what they got
(break yoself nigga)
I'm dealin these motherfuckers on top, sieze on the spot
Waitin another thirty minutes for these punk ass niggaz
And when they roll up and get out they ride
I'ma get out, you stay inside
And if you happen to see some killin nigga don't go into shock
Betta hop out with two chops tied together with your dirty socks
Cause livin up in the bay we gone have a split up in it
And your memory and corpse with shit up in it
Niggaz seein signs of overkill, yeah you did
But niggaz still kicked him in his motherfuckin head
But a cop with a donuts busted my choppa in the air
Niggaz can't fuck with these motherfuckin nightmares
Sellin keys and a half, some niggaz filled with slugs
And all the bodies drug, all the motherfuckin ditches dug
I bury paul, cuz i'm the pallbearer
Get your dome clapped in the dirty bay area
Chorus
Verse three： spice-1
I'm sick up in this game
I take no motherfuckin shorts, of course, i'm cappin
Leavin niggaz body parts collapsin
From the tech cuz i collect another killin
When i ride by do a drive-by domes either peelin
Bumpin up old school ep shit get off my ballzac
Sippin on that hennesey me and my g is to' back
See we don't be stress enough drama until the four chump
But we'll bring it to you and murda if you want some
Rollin up in caddies and dumpin out tinted windows
Put so much lead up in niggaz, use em for pencils
See can't be flossin this shit to make yourself look harder
It's like, throwin some bloody meat up in the water
Nigga, then you will never yourself a nice day
Cause these shark ass niggas'll gobble your ass up in the dirty
bay
Chorus： repeat 3x
3.Mind Of A Sick Nigga
(theyre all gonna laugh at you)
(theyre all gonna laugh at you)
(hahahahahaha)
(theyre all gonna laugh at you)
Enter the mind of a sick nigga.
With bloody uzi clips,
Decapitated heads in baskets,
Closed caskets. murda on wax.
Nigga, thats what its all about,
Thats what you bought the muthafuckin tape for.
Murda on wax.
Redrum. on wax.
Nigga, i said, redrum, on wax.
Gotta get my prozac fore i go back
And murda these muthafuckas
Jumpin up out yo bushes in front a yo house with a tech nine
Leavin in yo spine a flurry a bullets
Its that killa s-p-i-c-e
A lot a these jealous muthafuckas they wanna murda me
But they cant fuck with that giggedy-giggedy-gangsta
The nigga thats leavin they muthafuckin body parts in dumpstas
Budda-bye-bye-bye feel them blood clot rastas
The niggaz who be out there slippin catch some buckshots to them
head
Pullin up four deep in an old school caddy
Fully auto-maddy
Empty the clip, niggaz like paddy
In the alley, niggaz domes they cap
Pistol whippin muthafuckas, got some blood on my strap
(chorus)
What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga？
Them bloody bodies, face down in the dirty river
What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga？
Redrum, professinal gravedigga
What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga？
Them bloody bodies, face down in them dirty river
What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga？
187, professinal gravedigga
Im bailin up out the cut and niggaz they dont know what the fuck
happened
Im laughin and blastin, rippin asses in half an
Street sweepin these niggaz up under the rug
Plug they ass, makin they hooptie blow up when they crash
Zonin out that hash
Face down, back open, hopin they aint no snitches scopin
Witnesses witness they own smokin
See it aint no joke and nothing funny
Bustin caps in yo ass like yosemite sam and bugs bunny
They all see my comin and then they fled
Im shootin these niggaz off in the backa they head
Blowin off they legs
Talkin shit while they dyin
Fuckin off they high an
Hollow points keepin these niggaz cold bodies fryin
I aint no stranger to this killin shit
You shoulda thought before you fucked with this nigga you was
dealin with
You see i mobs through the ghetto smokin hash blunts
Stalkin game in the streets i grew up in
And when the shit get funky i just get on up
And blow your head off with a muthafuckin mac 10, bitch
Chorus
Youll be outta this muthafucka like ron goldman, chopped the
fuck up
Aint no nigga livin alive that survived
And had me caught up in some bullshit
Now who you tryin to fuck up in the hustle
This 20 gaugell ripple your ass up like a can a ruffles
Im tryin to bubble like johnson and johnson
With one in the chamber up an i load this strap with a 45
thompson
And we gon see if all that shit is true
Comin up out the bay, guaranteed to be 187 proof
You see my bustin with one hand up on my nutsac
Departin domes yellin out whos the muthafuckin mac
Its that red infa, nigga with a hot temper
I got your funeral date set up for next september
You gon be deader than livin presidents
Cuz in a couple a secs your soul gon be checkin up outta its
residence
Bodies stiff like christmas ornaments
Because the niggaz that a fuck with me bein mo funk than
parliment
Chorus
You see i mobs through the ghetto smokin hash blunts
Stalkin game in the streets i grew up in
And when the shit get funky i just get on up
And blow your head off with a muthafuckin mac 10, bitch
Chorus
(nigga, what you thinkin bout？)
4.Drama
(kokane)
Ah yeah...
(spice 1)
Murder is a part of the game and the jealous got me strapped
Crunch nappy sack, sick homies who got my back
Dead bodies, handcuffs, and house rage
Two and the one up on that dope track, sportin gangsta brains
Me and my homies feelin bail up in the hooptie
With the fifth degree in martin, the car ain't startin
Some haters rolled up fo' deeper than the chevy
Wavin techs up in the air like machine-gun kelly
I tell all my partners to bail up out the bucket
One raised the clout and the other gettin ducked quick
Enough, been rough so i begin to bust, straight dome shots
Droppin got them shakin like they cop lockin
Ski skirt clout smokin down the street
With his player partner beatin up at these niggas up in the
other seat
I check myself see if i'm shot, but they don't hit me
Shoppers singin like whitney they wanna fit me
With a full metal jacket, but they don't get me
Not one bullet touch my body, not even nick me
We rushed my homie to the nearest carsa hospital
But it's too late he all felt stiff like a pop sickle (damn!)
(chorus w／variations： kokane)
Situations gotta stick, i got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
(spice 1)
We shipped this spot for homicide, heat emergency
Feelin go perform my own open heart surgery
Because my partner shouldn't died like that
We gotta show my homie love and get them busters back
So we mobb through the ghetto lookin for revenge
But we can't find a soul, fools talkin bout us gettin cold
Behold a chevy with gold deeds
Could these be the headers who made my hooptie look like swiss
cheese
Fools musta turned the lights off and let's get closer
Don't let em see you pull your mask down, pull out the dullja's
With tales from the creepin on the hush feelin leave fo' suckers
in a dutch
The midnight drama don't stop so if you get some dirt
They'll dig you in the clear, cause player, you'll be outta here
We ain't no suckers, we doin it like john gottie
We left them fools in the parkin lot with open bodies
(chorus w／variations： kokane)
Situations gotta stick, i got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
(spice 1)
We built up out the scene with out a clue
People call the police but that's all they can do
We hit the freeway in a bucket, feelin no remorse
We regulatin in the ghetto with deadly force
And ain't nobody tellin nothin about the decease
Cause if you snitch your family count will get decrease
Up in the game them things gonna be poppin ya, 187 in the style
of the mafia
This ain't no business for busters, trick ass haters
Try their pager, jealous cause you livin major
Hit me on my pager, sharp as a razor
And suckers who don't feel me, get the red laser
And sicker than a hangover, fools try to slang boulders
But get snatched out their range rovers
(chorus w／variations： kokane)
Situations gotta stick, i got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
I don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Situations gotta stick, i got my own cop to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Now i don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Situations gotta stick, i got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Now i don't give a fuck about you
As long as the pigs don't go step on my shoes
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
Situations gotta stick, drama, i don't give a fuck about you,
yeah
Situations gotta stick, i got my own cop tryin to test me
Got me caught up in this drama, yeah!
5.Mobbin'
(spice 1)
Yeah, what you lookin at, bwoy？
Ph balance style
(chorus：spice 1)
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
(spice 1)
Hit the freeway in a 850 goin about a hundred and forty, sporty
Niggas slowin down as if they know me
Owe me a chronic session but i keep on mobbin' i got my own
Fiendin goin to the zone, rollin up i see a vega loan
Watchin out for the po-po cause the gangsta braise alert the
coppers
Smokin under them choppers o.g.'s see me and give me propers
They say whattup to the easy bay gangsta each and every time
As i took my hat and light my chronic up in the sunshine
I gets my mobb on just like all you other players
Lookin out for dead presidents who want that green paper
Put out my doobie as i mobb up off the freeway
I'm goin side-a-ways, this way, that-a-way
I see my partners up in the alley fightin they pit bulls
High performance, old schools, with fat dulls
Catch me cussin at the cluckers on the street
Tryin to stop myself from pullin out my heat, i'm mobbin' today
(chorus： spice 1)
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
(spice 1)
Po-po passin me up, lookin all inside my car
It's full of smoke, rollin down my window, they see me choke
And spit a loogie out on the street because i'm hella high
Rollin around, maddoggin with some red eye
Talkin slow and show them about which way to go
Just hittin corners, tryin to find myself a liquor store
Hustlers slangin on the stow-front tryin to make some ends
I'm gettin deals on blunts from the iranians
They know my face cause i comin up at them every day
For some hennessy and lemon squeeze a alazay
Then i'm back on the streets drivin through the track
See fools fresh out the penn, killers from way back
Hoppin out the hooptie chop it up with real ass o.g. homies
Jerk players only, cause ain't no time for fakes or phonies
Come catch a glimpse of a real player up in the bay
Gotta get my pay okay, i'm mobbin' today
(chorus： spice 1)
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
(interlude： spice 1)
Yeah i've seen up out there player,
Runnin with a five hundred knowhati'msayin？
850, guard be, knowi'msayin, somethin proper,
Somethin fly, say knowhati'msayin？
Get your mobb on you know, youknowhati'msayin？
Or you can sweat these busters with their mean muggin,
Player hatin youknowi'msayin？
That's all they is, get your mobb on man,
Cause i'm gonna get mine on youknowhati'msayin？...
(chorus： spice 1)
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop de doop de doop doo, doo
Mobbin' today, hey
Shoobedoop...
6.Survival
I'm lookin up out the barrel of a .45
Will a nigga survive
Or will these muthafuckas see me die
You see i'm livin in a society
Where soldiers breed
And you see murder 187 over hustlers greed
I told my homie to watch his fuckin back
While he blunted
I know some niggas that wanna kill him
For that five hundred
You see a murder from a street
My survival skills
Hand to hand or combat or even shoot to kill
Can't let these muthafuckas do you in this game man
Leavin cocaine in blood
Runnin down the street drain
They screamin yea but it ain't because they happy
I think they wanna cap me dome
Run in my happy home
And do me with the chrome
But ain't shit poppin
Cause you're sure to get your life tooken
I got niggas watchin my back
When even i ain't look at it
Survival
Survival
Only the strong can survive
Its called survival
You see its cold on these blood-thirsty streets nigga
You got to figure
Even these little muthafuckas packin triggas
That'll put you under
I heard the thunder of a .20 gauge
？？？？？ another nigga dead
And still don't make the front page
Nobody gives a fuck
You're on your own patna
Better pull some licks but don't jack me
Cause you get with this chopper
Make you spray yourself or ak yourself
If you don't know how much you're worth
You should have took your time and weighed yourself
Its 50／50 in the city when its life or death
You can take it
Or i could have my last breath
Its do or die
Die or do
Me and you
Which one will survive
When all the killin is through
Some niggas leavin dumb before they realize
The name of the muthafuckin game is survive nigga
Muthafuckas say that i'm a paranoid nigga
Because i'm strapped with the infrared and the mack 11
Everyday put a happy big face up in your 6 tray
？？？？？？？？？ see who survive
Before you get off 2 shots
Nigga i'm gon get off 5
Cause i ain't the one to be the corpse
Up in this muthafucka
You know you're fuckin
With the original dead body chucker
Punk ass niggas can't get next to this
Dead o.g.'s be hautin my body like the muthafuckin exorcist
Run up on niggas dumpin they homies
Bodies up out they car
Its just some hardcore shit
Thats uncut and raw
We do the shit cause niggas can't understand
That everybody up on the block
Can't be the muthafuckin top man
Its scrilla for every nigga so strive
And you will be the nigga to survive
7.Tales Of The Niggas Who Got Crept On
(＊several coughs＊) (＊inhales＊)
(intro)
Yeah, hahahaha, we's black again from the face down in the river
huh, huh
Mark from tellin nigga jokes (oh shit, ain't about a bitch),
yeah
(spice 1)
I got your mama up in the shoop of my hooptie, what should i do
with the bitch？
I think i want to dump her in a ditch, cause i'm the kidnapper
Body-snatcher, witness killer, special deliver, from murder to
your dough nigga
Open it up and you'll be starin right down a rarer, rarer desert
eagle fo-fo
I'll split your flow it's time to bail, stick and move, dip and
dive
It ain't no trace, just a bullet enlodged up in your fuckin face
I knew a nigga who always wore black
Said he was an o.g. player shot up some niggas with macks
Said he had a little drama with some high powered killers
And the nigga that watched his back, he said he'll give me some
scriller
So he partied through the city, hittin party's and clubs
Cause these so called o.g. motherfuckers finally showed up
These bastards opened fire in the middle of the party
Blow to the blow and put my mack and aimed the legs and body (oh
shit, god damn)
(chorus)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(punk ass motherfuckers)
(nigga, fuck that nigga, straightly smoked)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(spice 1)
I hit two niggas up in the ankle and one in the knee
Ain't nothin but the motherfuckin hog in me
So i's bail to my caddy with the triple gold bangers
Your crowd run on members, and still got one up in the chamber
I told my nigga to bring his slow ass on
Cause if he's stylin, the motherfuckers the other two won't be
long
They comin, so hit the dirt and try to crawl to the villians
(niggas)
These fools is some killers and i can see they really want this
nigga
Musta fucked em on some paper or somethin sick
Whatever it is these niggas want to bury his dick
Got in the caddy and raced up out the drama scene
Looked like some gangsta shit you see up on the tv screen
But it ain't no cut, just actin live, niggas die
Drug related killers, switcher on time high
See real killers can be swept on
I'm kickin tales of the niggas who got crept on
(chorus)
(shit), kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(go nigga, police lookin and shit nigga)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(fuck you doing nigga, firin up a joint, motherfuckin...)
Kick to the tales of the niggas who got crept on
(fuck is wrong with you？)
(spice 1)
We chopped it up, my partner had some love
50 g's to creep on the niggas that tried to kill us up that
fuckin club
25 are threat and 25 are for the killin
For that kind of money i'll have the blood up on the fuckin
ceilin
Now the slaughter is about to begin
Mini 14's, six homies and some motherfuckin mack 10's
Infra-red, silencer, i'll silence ya, cut off ya p-g-a and a
massacre
Everybody, cause can't no nigga diss me
Niggas you sent to the club, with some motherfuckin pussy
(pussy)
I'm feelin, hit the hospital straight do they ass
I took em down to his basement and then i stabbed his ass
Screams jumpin the night, the nigga never heard i kill with a
routin
Even got him for a couple of birds
So then i creep up into the i-c-u, i see you livin too long
Nigga you crept on, your life gone
(spice 1)
Yeah nigga, got some shit just for you
Special motherfuckin can catch shit you on, uncut herion nigga
Straighten your motherfuckin bays nigga
Yeah nigga, you like this shit huh nigga, suffer nigga
Suffer motherfucker, yeah, take a good dose of the shit, nigga
Yeah, yeah nigga you feelin it huh, can't breathe, what you
can't breathe
Somethin wrong what, what, huh, huh, what, what, huh, huh, huh,
what
Oh, thought you said somethin, hahahaha...
8.Sucka Ass Niggas
(spice 1)
Four years ago i was stuck on the grind
Slangin' crack 50 sacks straight 20's and dimes
Till i came with shit that got a muthafucka known
Coolin' on the corner with the cellular phone
Took a test to be a muthafuckin' g
And all the niggas came amazed at me
Since the age of 16 i been slangin' the crack
The fiends used to scream for my muthafuckin' sacks
I used to cut the lleyo down to the bone
But now i'm killin' niggas on the microphone
Sp-spice 1 kickin' shit to mass
A hennessy lemon squeeze and bubble bath
You see that's the life that i lead
I put a slug in a nigga try to fuck with me
So step back move back niggas try to jack
But ain't no muthafuckin' love i put you on your back
Start some shit at the party first nigga to glance
I pull out my glock and make him piss in his pants
No shorts on a dove i'm tryna come above
They call me spice 1 and ain't no muthafuckin' love
(chorus)：
I said one to the two, two to two three
Put a slug in your ass for you to say g
The s to the p the i the c-e
You sucka ass niggas can't fuck with me
(spice 1)：
I rolls a gold cherokee nothin like a seville
And when you look up inside you see a nigga that's real
So if you see me cruisin' by keep your hands to your side
You might catch a slug if i'm on a hoo-ride
I said i first come i first served basis
Niggas catchin' slugs in a lot of strange places
One of a kind for my people's delight
And to you sucka ass niggas you just ain't right
Because you're snitchin' on your homies be seat up in the pen
And niggas wanna stick you if they see your ass again
You're hangin' on the ave you're chillin' with the crew
But niggas walk away and all the bullets hittin' you
(chorus)
(spice 1)：
I said one to the two, two to three
My dj xtra-large and g-n-u-t
We roll up in the place pointin' straps at your face
Tinted windows black hearse gold daytons straight lace
Let off rounds you fall down to the ground
You sucka ass nigga another dead clown
You're a 5 dollar boy and i'm a million dollar player
You's a sucka ass nigga i had to spray ya
You say you pack a nine and a nine is fine
But i'm blowin' out the back of your head from behind
I'm comin' from the sickest city around
Spittin' some gangsta shit the dirty bay is the town
So g-nut and if you're bigger or pack the tight figure
Shoot these haters with the strap that you got from that dead
nigga
{g-nut：}
G-n-u-t in the place to be
Pimp straight up out a player's university
Every since kindergarden i acquired the knowledge
Didn't have no mail so i said ： 'fuck college!'
I'm brown-skinned comin' straight out the stack
And the game that i spit'll put your bitch on the back
I'm dressed to kill i love to style
I'm the mc you know hoe check my file
The big-lip nigga for your regard
500 dollar spread for the credit card
I hit your town then i go back home
Break a bitch for her mail bought a cadillac chrome
Deep in the cut for all you bitches delight
And if a nigga playa-hate he gon have to fight
Because when i grind i hits the strip
Every time i sell out i buy a brand-new zip
It don't take a lot to entertain'
And like my nigga method man i'ma bring the pain
You can't rock the shop if you high off hop
You gotta let a nigga know you'll never stop
And your game gotta make a lot of sense
You gotta know when to start when the pimpin' begins
9.Faces Of Death
Ay bwoy, ay, this is... this is...
187, the 187, the (chill man) 187
The 187, the 187, the 187 (187)
The 187, the 187, the bloaw! (jump up in the house man, chill
man)
187, the 187, (faces of death man) the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187 (what you know about faces of death
man？)
The 187, the bloaw!
(＊the 187 repeats in background then jamaican singing＊)
(spice 1)
(born to kill), reign shit goes on right here, reign shit player
Chill man, chill, walk about, walk about the (casket)
Serious motherfucker balls, spit my dime, fuck the sidewalk man
James bridge just blowin down motherfuckin train man
(casket), real type shit man, huh, huh, yeah man (silence of a
dead man body...)
Watch them die over the drug and the white bitch man, the white
bandit
Watch them die over the cocaine (＊choke＊) faces of death man
In the ghetto, projects what ever you want to call it
We all the same man, we all in the same shit (s-p-i-c-e) word-a
We say the 187, the 187 (jealousy got me strapped) callin the
murder
The 187, the 187 is in the fire (nigga)
(spice 1)
(east bay gangsta) east bay gangsta man, kill a rat
Kick that gangsta shit man word up (crazy)
Motherfuckin killer, in this...
Me say the 187, the 187, the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187
The 187, the 187, the 187, the bloaw!
(spice 1)
Murder from the mind of a sick nigga
Thinkin bodies, dirty money, bloody cocaine and tech clips
I play with pistol grips, dead niggas and lolly tips
Suicidal sick shit, a psychopathic lunatic
Caught up in murder man, dirty up in this dead fool
Faces of death, hog my dreams out of drains fools
Pullin pistols, tellin niggas to get the fuck back
I'm regulatin shit, there's money up on my dope track
See i'm a soldier in this game, ain't nothin strange
Got a nigga lyin on the floor with half of his fuckin brains
Murder and crazy it's just a part of the game
Niggas won't kill ya, just don't fuck with their caine
Mack 10 silencer all ya heard was screams (ahhhhhh!!!)
All i seen was the gleams from the infra-red beams
Another motherfuckin walk-by in your hood
Better pack two clips up on your hips and it's all good
That nigga death, he got more faces than a motherfucker
So don't be shocked if you're naked, bleedin in your gutter,
niggas
Ay bwoy, ay this is... in this mother...
Faces of death is an way gone past
Fuck up all of your hoes, all up in your bed, in your bed
Faces of death is an way gone...
Fuck all of your hoes, all in your bed, this is... in your bed,
in this...
Faces of death away, fuck up all your hoes all in your bed, in
your bed
Faces of death is an way gone... (all right)
Fuck up all your hoes in your bed (twilight zone to 1999 yet,
spice 1)
Don't you ever... in your bed
East bay gangsta, gangsta hoe, ooh (well all right, can you
hang？)
Can you motherfuckers hang, i mean slang them thangs as they go？
Well, all right, hoe, hoe, hoe, well i'm wrong
Say no, sing a sad song ohh, cause a,
Cause a hoe's are gon' lay on, we all gon' hash one day
Well all right on, uh sayer, sprayer, east bay, well on willie
Mother pimp in the game, 187 faculty thang hey, well all right
Uh, bosko whassup nigga, where that chicken at？
Where that chicken at nigga, whassup spice？
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
10.1-800(Str8 From The Pen)
The number you have reached 4x
We used to piss on the floors in the bathroom
In elementary
I never thought you'd end up in the penitentiary
Readin these letters you've sendin me
Sippin hennesey watchin my back for enemies
They wanna see me burried
I heard you had to put some work in
When you got there
Don't wanna rott there
Heard niggas plot there
So what you're doin bout 5 to 10
Collect for robert green from the federal pen
Nigga what you do to get yourself in jail
He said i'm fightin double murder
25 with an l
Can you help me with my lawyer
I'm gettin kinda broke
Good girl gone bad
Niggas got smoked
Can't talk too much about it on the phone
Po-po'd listen peep game
Your ass'd never come home , see
Damn you can't escape the drama
Don't be stressin imma give the scrilla
To your baby momma
I seen your baby boy and he's doin o.k.
Lil' playa lookin more and more like you everyday
Yeah
You just keep pumpin that iron and watch your back
Up on the main line
I make sure that your family's doin fine
Comrads since the age of 3
And i know my patna will do the same for me
Collect from the pen
They are dialin 1-800-c-o-l-l-e-c-t
Straight from the state penitentiary
They are dialin 1-800-c-o-l-l-e-c-t
From the federal penitentiary
They are dialin 1-800-c-o-l-l-e-c-t
It's dollar bill susanville collect for me
Said he was glad that i'm in the rap game
Cause in the concrete zoo you livin life like the crap game
We used to be 2 lil' bad ass kids
Reminiscin on the dirt that we did
Back in the day we had to stick together , man
Gettin the hustle on in any type of weather , man
Takin the turns
While we used to keep watch out for the cops
Never no squabble we was compromisin tradin knots
Said he was seein all the homies up inside stressin
Havin suicidal thoughts over lifes lessons
My people was tryin to call and see if i'm in home yet
With hella niggas in the back yellin phone checks
( get out the phone befo' you get stole on )
They send my patna to the hole again
Before the conversation even began
Collect from the pen
Hello you reached the east bay gangster s-p-i-c-e
Well its the homie from the federal penitentiary
What you have doin black
You call your momma back
She's stressin hard as you off where you at
I seen your sendin pictures with your yokes on
Braided hair with them crazy black locks on
Mad dog and ？？ hog throwin up the hood
Be right here smokin broccoli with me if you could
Peep this
My little patna been in jail so long
That he ain't even thinkin bout comin home
You got the only family that he know besides
His momma in the pen with him
And all the oldschool comrads is in with him
I didn't have to ask him what he pulled them licks for
You get them pictures that i send you of my '64
Yeah , you know the one we always used to ride in
The one them suckers try to run up on the side in
We strapped quick as soon as he tried to get in
Never forget the dirty work you put in
Collect from the pen
The number you have reached ：
5-5-5-4-7-3-5
Has been disconnected
You stupid muthafucka !!
11.Ain't No Love
(chorus：joya)
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love in this game
No, no, ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
Ain't no love in this game
(spice 1)
I used to hustle street corners back in 1986
Slangin yayo by the dub, me and e-bay in the mix
Only sixteen, slangin rocks on the slumber,
Two 'o' clock in the mornin we watchin under,
See the coppers kept their creep on
But we was ready, didn't slip or slide or sleep on
The game was deadly, you could be here today and gone tomorrow
Partner, see you gotta try to survive, the system failed us as a
people
Money is the root to evil that we possess inside our hearts and
minds
That's why so many of my homies dyin
Crack flooded communities will reflect the grim harsh look
And the face of what we call reality, dead partners and clips
Pictures and bullet shells on grave sites
Got me thinkin about my crazed life
What would i be, when i think that it's a shame
Cause my trigger gots no heart homie and ain't no love in this
game
(chorus： joya)
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love in this game
No, no, ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
Ain't no love in this game
(spice 1)
I watched the po-po roll on and chase my partner
See, my homie's get stole on fool, by the coppers
See the, herion addicts and fiends walkin the city streets
Not even wantin to care about what their children eat
But see it's dog eat dog, be a hog
Young player maintain to keep ya brain like ya aim fool
Gotta do what ya gotta do, roll with a crew if you got to
But keep your game true, cause see them haters out there bad
Talkin about they wanna jack a young player for all his cash
Better watch your back in '95 on the real
Them youngsters out there drugged out there high packing steel
And can't nobody tell them nuthin about their life
Cause their daddy beat their mama and their mama on the pipe
When will the sticky situation change, like i told you before
homie
There ain't no love in this game
(chorus： joya)
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love in this game
No, no, ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
Ain't no love in this game
(spice 1)
My homie mama almost died and had a stroke
When we told her that her little baby boy was left in smoke
We all shed in tears cause they did him cold
I know if he was here, we would all be smokin like a broke stove
Light up the blunt and crack the top off of the yak
But all the chronic in the world can't bring my homie back
I'm missin all the times that we got drunk and fell out on the
floor
Both at the back of a squad car straight cappin on the po-po
And that's a cryin shame, damn, there ain't no love in this game
(＊echoes＊)
(chrous w／ variations： joya)
Ain't no love, i'm tellin you ain't no love
I'm tellin you ain't no love in this game
No, no, it ain't no happy phase
You know that's right to say the place
Ain't no love in this game
It ain't no happy thing
You know there's pointin it to blame
Ain't no love in this game
It ain't no happy phase
You know that's right seed ain't the blame
Ain't no love in this game
It ain't no happy phase
You know that seed no ain't the blame
Ain't no love in this game, no...
12.Funky Chickens
Yeah nigga
Muthafuckin east bay gangster
Back in your muthafuckin face
Rollin in my muthafuckin chicken coupe
Muthafuckin black-on-black caddy
Triple gold d's and shit
Spice muthafuckin one knowmsayin
Straight mobbin
Four chickens in a coop
Make a nigga wanna shoop
Colonel sanders ain't poppin, droppin
Big fat baby huey, ki's they can purchase
Got the whole hood ballin, nigga, fuck churches
Fools in the city turn the fuck up dead
Cos i'm servin more chickens than foghorn leg
Feds wanna know where a nigga reside
Cos the nuggets i'm sellin ain't kentucky fried
See, i boil it to a certain degree
Sometimes a nigga even sellin quarter pounders with cheese
But it ain't mcdonald's or burger king
Cos muthafuckas goin under gettin caught with hot wings
Ba-da-ba-ba slingin that lleyo
Them feds don't play, hoe
Say no if they ask you if you seen
A young nigga wearin braids slinig birds out a pinto
Smokin indo talkin to my hitman
Put your ass six feet under like quicksand
Get some slugs and a golden shower
Got the muthafuckin cocaine, money and power
Takes a lickin and keeps on tickin, movin, stickin
Fuckin round with the funky chicken
Straight believin in flake from s-p-i
Never gettin high off your own supply
The world was a big fat vagina
Waitin for a nigga like me to get behind her
See, the ballers and the clockers know me so well
Servin my muthafuckin ki's outta cheap motels
Cookin chickens in the kitchen to smoked-out hoes
Collect the shit in my lungs, collect the shit in my nose
See, let a real nigga tell it
I seen niggas swallow they lley, shit it out and still sell it
Keep the hustle goin strong each day
My little homie larry swallowed five dubs and passed away
Chickens in my drawers collectin them funds
Can't wear boxer shorts, gotta wear dun-dun-dun-dun's
Infrared cos niggas try to jack
See i'm sellin chickens and they gettin chicken scratch
There ain't no match for this killin-ass baller
Call a shot like at＆t and touch all of y'all
I'm countin chickens in my sleep
I used to count sheep
But the chickens give me heap, so catch the tweak
The fuck off, i love it when my stack thicken
Yeah, fuckin round with the funky chicken
Straight believin in flake from s-p-i
Never gettin high off your own supply
Clockers walk around the track pickin doves like bird seed
Mix a little crack with some dirt weed
But i mob in my chicken coupe sittin on triple gold
With just today twenty chicken sold
And niggas love me cos i'm straight 205
And when i stay alive niggas put scrilla out for my life
You put a hit out on me, i put one out on you
You wanna murder who？ slugs full of dirt for you
The underground villain, chicken seller
Slingin birds out the trunk, a 95 goodfella
Stayin under from these crooked-ass federalies
And leavin niggas who don't pay me shot up in the alley
Murderin swift and i'm quick up out the scenery
Showin you niggas what my scrilla really mean to me
Cos i'm addicted to the lley slingin chickens
Got me slingin in the shower, two birds every four hours
Watch my ass and i'm on another mail mission
Finna serve some more of that funky chicken
Yeah you know what i'm sayin
Straight mobbin and shit
About 30 ki's in the muthafuckin trunk
Niggas know what time it is
Knowmsayin
Yeah, you gotta watch your muthafuckin shit
Niggas will try to get you for your caine, nigga
You know the rules, nigga
Yeah, never understimate the other muthafucka's greed
Straight game
Yeah
And when you're rollin in your muthafuckin drop
Or whatever you're ridin in
Nigga, don't have the music up too goddamn loud
Cos muthafuckas'll ride up on you and straight
Shoot you in your muthfafuckin head and drag you up out your
shit
They don't give a fuck if you're strapped or not, nigga
This lley game ain't no muthafuckin joke
Yeah
Just get in funk behind them chickens
Straight uncut peruvian flavor
Cookin chickens in the kitchen, nigga, like shake 'n bake
Call me chef ？？？
187000 g's
13.Snich Killas
Fuck these snitches!
Spoken：
'yeah, you know. cause all i'm here to do is watch my ass. know
what
I'm sayin'？ that ain't my dope, that's chico's dope.
You know what i'm sayin'？
So what type of witness protection program you got for me？'
Chorus：
You keep tellin' all these coppers
I'm gonna hurt you 'till you bleed
All these niggas in my city, we put snitches six feet deep
Tattle-tellin' in the jail and niggas yellin' out your name
Tell them po-po all your business get you caught up in the game
Fuck these snitches!
Verse 1：
We got your partner in there since you was at the crime
That's how they get you to squeal, them motherfucker's lyin'
Nigga, stick with the program and you gonna be all right
But if you tell them i did it, i'm stickin' your ass tonight
They sayin' 'six people saw ya' but i ain't sayin'
Shit 'till i meet with my lawyer
Blowin' smoke up my ass cause if i have to blast
I'm mobbin' the fuck out tha murder scene with the hockey mask
Lookin' like jason while them cops is chasin' me
Behind the wheel buckin', facin' l-i-f-e
Hittin' corners bailin', fish tailin' to the left
I heard the motherfuckin' blast shatter out the back
They wanna screw me, do me and have me fucked up
Put a young g in the system and have me sucked up
In the prison block but i ain't goin' there
So if you tell on me nigga, you be my hoe in there
See i do dirt all up on my lonely cause niggas phoney
Givin' up the info on murders and snitchin' on they homies
Puttin' lead up in these loud mouth bitch niggas
So say what up to the motherfuckin' snitch killa
Chorus
Verse 2：
See, where i'm from motherfuckas live and let die
Snitch killa, the real nigga s-p-i
I'm droppin' shells on a bitch
See they do a lick with a nigga and get him tellin' and shit
I can't stand it when a nigga think he sick in the game
Tell everybody who be gafflin' for some bitches and fame
I'm gonna blast in the window, indo jack
Got me puttin' snitches up on they motherfuckin' back
Puttin' hollow up in your head, runnin' in your home
Leave these motherfuckers sleepin' with their house lights on
Finna kill this snitch ass nigga before my homie go to court
We tied him to the back of a motherfuckin' super sport
Doin' donuts with his ass tied to the back of the car
Bringin' them terror, the burier, coffin carrier
See niggas die when they testify
You better get your punk ass up there and straight lie
They caught your ass up in the hooptie with 3 ki's
Now you out on bail and all you gave 'em was 2 g's
You ain't playin' nobody, go get your vest nigga
Be on the look out for the motherfuckin' snitch killa
Chorus
Spoken：
'like i was sayin' mister ociffer. you know what i'm
Sayin'？ i can tell you
Where he keep his dope. i can tell you where he stay.
I can tell you where
He get his braids done.'
Verse 3：
Niggas be talkin' upon that straight killa
He ain't in jail cause he snitched on that other nigga
Now his freedom is gone and you can count on it
If you ever in quentin you gonna be tagged snitch
They gonna have to seperate the men from the women
A lot of snitches in the pen turn straight feminine
And get they ass took
See, only real niggas slide with us
You gonna be snitchin' motherfucker you can't ride with us
Because we sure to do some heavily incriminating shit
Like pullin' licks and pushin' chickens for the fuck of it
Ain't no tellin' in my crew cause everybody guilty of somethin'
That's why we wound up, we all dumpin'
And the nigga who don't blast, he get sucked and swallowed
Threw out the hooptie when it's still rollin'
He ain't dead yet but if he tattle on a nigga
He gotta tangle with this motherfuckin' snitch killa
Chorus
Spoken：
'ok now mister ociffer, now what it gonna be？ you know
What i'm sayin'？
I gotta get up on outta here, know what i'm sayin. i
Need a house in the bahamas,
You know what i'm sayin', you know i got two kids. you
Know i just wanna be
Protected in this motherfucker. you know what i'm
Sayin'？ can i get this on
Paper？ it's like i was just tryin' to watch my ass.
You know what i'm sayin',
Like i was safe.'
'no!'
'shit! damn! i just wanna be protected in this
Motherfucker. shit! i didn't
Do it, spice did everything.'
14.Can U Feel It
Chorus：
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
Verse 1： young kyoz
Here i come steppin'
Tha murder weapon
Cappin' off safety
Keep one in tha chamber
Nigga
Your life is in danger
(boyowh!) call me cuz i'm floating cross
Tha river droppin g shit
Wit mo' kicks than a steven segal
(boyaaa!) peep this
From tha unforgiven mask murderer
Handcuffing tha m-i-c
Serving niggaz like miky d's
Mo' action's than jackson
U never breath again like toni braxton
When i'm maxing
Shooting rhymes like john paxson
And don't forget
Tha lights on tha carmera
So i lick 'em
Stick 'em
Did 'em
Dun 'em
Get mo' mellow than i trail 'em
To tha darkside
And make 'em evacuate wit tha sickness
Killin' my fatal flow wit tha quickness
Ugh!
U really don't wanna see me and my flow
(u don't wanna see me, u don't wanna see me) cuz i can play it
like
Casper
Get real
Then i'm ghost
All i want to know
Fool!
Can u feel it？
Nigga!
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
Verse 2： e-40
Uuhh!／
Nigga who tha fuck u talkin to？
Talkin ya ass muthafucka
U's got no clue
I'll be your huckleberry (huckleberry)
Tha black
I fill me mildow wit my
Serial number scratch off must be a throw away
Muthafuckaz expect me to come soft
But fool i'm here to stay
(gunshots)
Blow, bllaarraah, muthafuckaz, blastmuthafuckaz
(gunshots end)
Release tha tec
No chop to tha bank
It's hot
No rock n jock
U big bullies get turned to semi automactics
Get too of full ass
I like tha times wit my social thugs
Stay away from tha
Brushing up on my shooting skillz
Charge of property land
Aiming at coke bottle and aluminuim can
Walkin' around this muthafucka wit ya lips
Closed out
Fools know wut i'm about
Muthafuck u!
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
Verse 3： spice-1
A whu, a whu
A 1-2-3
It's tha muthafuckin' killa
Bailin' up out tha caddy
Wit tha inferred up on my milla
See ya muthafuckin' head up
Wit this muthafuckin' in his mouth
Creepin' up in ya fuckin' house
Leave ya brain on tha couch
Just some g shit
From some niggaz
Who really don't give a fuck
1990-sick up on this album all u bitches duck
Bbllaawwhhh!
Triple gold knack off
Be holdin my tire on
Fuckin' wit tha alcohol, tobacco and tha firearm
My nigga e-4-0
Double jeff
And kyoz
U way off
Hoes like a fro
And u gunn stay soft
That's why i'm pickin' on ya ass
Ya fony nigga
East bay gangstaz for life
Str8 1-8-7 killaz
Talkin'：
Bbllaawwhh!
Yeah man
We just take em got em
Put tha barrol in they mouth and just bbllaawwhh!
Man
Just takin' muthafuckin' grims out they mouth
Cuz really don't give a fuck
Bbllaawwh!!!!
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(can u feel it baby？)
Uuuuugggghhhhh, yeah
(i want to know)
(chorus to fade)
15.1990-sick(Kill em All)
Chorus：
Kill 'em all (x4)
Cuz everybody dyin' on this muthafuckin' album
Kill 'em all (x4)
Don't kick up in the dirt when i'm puttin' in work
Kill 'em all (x4)
Cuz everybody dyin' on this muthafuckin' album
I murda like this (this)
I murda like that (that)
Pull an ak-47 up out my muthafuckin' gangsta hat
Professinal, columiban, necktiea, barbwire
Strangula, over killa, dead fuckin' body hanga
Peepin' out the window with an ak
Pullin' up on these coppas
Helicoptas, squad cars, squat 10's with choppas
They tellin' me 'nigga, get the fuck out before ya die
If you surrender, we'll make sure that you quickly fry'
Should i kick open the door and go to war
Or should i stick my throat
Leave a pipe bomb and a fuck you note
Hallucinations of seein' lynched bodies burnin'
And all the po-po had faces like mark furhman
Tear gas through my glass window pane
They wanna put me back up in the nut house again
But i'm not goin' back and take my prozac
They can keep the straight jacket
And leave a straight mutha fuckin' jack
A straight mutha fuckin' jack
A straight mutha fuckin' jack
Chorus
(get the hell off my dick, i'm 1990-sick)
(1990-sick) (x4)
Nigga's to pull the lynch
Yayo case and stick
Marcia clark screamin' out murda, jumpin' on oj's dick
Muthafuckas still sufferin' and healin'
Some high tech knowledga white boys blew up the fuckin' fed
buildin'
Crazy niggas still bangin' and slangin' crack
To the death, when the game put 'em up on they back
Muthafuckas catchin' names, from shootin' high
And phony niggas still get sprayed up on the block
And i ain't changed much, hell
I'm still smokin' four or five muthafuckin' choppas before it's
twelve
Muthafuckas think they know me, but they don't know
I'm sellin' first class tickets to the murda show
Don't wanna rap about no nigga, let's get it on
Bustin' domes, buck shots through your rib bone
So all you niggas up in the magazines talkin' shit
Get off my dick, i'm 1990-sick
Chorus
Muh-uh-mobbin' up out the cu-uh-cut
With a ready to pow one
Nuh-uh-90 sick content of the album
If there's a cure for this, don't cure me
I'm comin' with the fury
Playa hata's gettin' hung up like a jury
So peep the game from an old school g you know so well
The east bay gangsta, leaving caution tape and faces pale
I bails on a full moon like the 12 o clock
Neighborhood watch scared to look and see who on the block
Just fed a rallys, no po-po come around here
Cuz it's a different time, different game, different year
1990 sick
Chorusx2
(get the hell off my dick, i'm 1990-sick)
(1990-sick) (x4)
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