8 Ball

I don't drink brass monkey

Like the big funky

Nick named Eazy-E

Yo 8-Ball Junkie

Bass drum kicking

To show my sh*t

Rapping holding my d*ck

Boy I don't quit

Loud wild mutha f*cka

From around the way

I got a six shooter

Yo mean hombre

Wandering 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 freezing 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

Marvin Gayes Greatest hits

Turn the beat up

Have the base cold romping

Cruising 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 holding

Eazy-E's F*cked up

An got the 8-Ball rollin'

(I was)

Whose Kickin' a**?

(I was)

Raised in LA

(I was)

Cruising down the street in my 6-4

Riding Los Loses

Looking 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 holding

Eazy-E's F*cked up

And got the 8-Ball rollin

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 hurling 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

Boys in the hood

Trying to keep me cool

Dammit homeboy

You wanna kick my but

I walk in you face

And we get them up

I start dropping 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 holding

Eazy-E's f*cked up

And got the 8-Ball rollin

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

Rendezvous 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 holding

Eazy-E's f*cked up

And got the 8-Ball rollin