Trick-Trick 2getha 4eva

[Intro: Trick Trick]

This one is dedicated to the #1 rap group ever

Run-D.M.C. and Jam Master Jay


Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled

Detroit is in this motherfuckin building

Big Proof, Esham, Trick Trick, Kid Rock



Together, get cheddar, get cheddar, forever

Retire from this game I’ma have to say never

We bakin, it’s cakin, your life’ll get taken

Don’t be a eyewitness if I’m not mistaken

You snitchin, just listen, niggaz cookin in the kitchen

A murder was committed, I was fittin the description

A Detroit nigga scandelous, I’m an assassin

Trick Trick ain’t gotta hit ’em, I already blast ’em


My name is P (P!) I’m from the D (D!)

The area code (code!) is 3-1-3 (3!)

I run with Trick (Trick!) I (Kid) with Rock (Rock!)

I love Detroit (‘troit) and every block (block!)

I’m down by laws, screamin fuck the law (law!)

D12 in the house (house) we the best you saw (saw!)

With a Sqwad of Goons (Goons!) out drinkin boons (boons!)

The real street riders still reppin click-boom!

[Kid Rock]

Ohhhhhhhhh I’m the crook that rocks, with thugs and cops

The blacks the whites, the whys and nots

The young the old, the bold and the wicked

Now who here got his Kid Rock tickets?

I can’t fix, what isn’t broke

So mix me up another Jim Beam and Coke

Pass the J (J!) chop one out

Cause that’s what a muh’fucker’s all about!

[Trick Trick]

Detroit riders RIDE! We gettin bread, we LIVE!

Blowin pounds of FIRE! You can’t fade us, WHY?

We players NOW! These haters DIE!

We got them killers in spots dwellin and K’d up

(I) keep my riders close by when most lie

Fake niggaz waitin, debatin, but see they don’t try

Fo’-five bustin that chopper hot as a pope lyin

Clean from the scene investigated with no ties


Hoooooo! [9X]


Esham the rap god, Trick Trick and Goon Sqwad

Get any nigga in the industry balloon popped

We waited too long, these bitches won’t play our songs

But when the DJ’s get they brains blown they screamin “Y’all wrong”

It’s a cold world, so the slugs is like Freon

Dope boy in the hood, hat with the D on

And still I kill at will until the body count pile up

And fuck the industry until they bring 7 Mile up


Pile up the suckers I kill after I’m drillin ’em

My pockets stay real deep, cash keep fillin ’em

Triple 7-93-11, that’s for Em and them

Any competition that’s hot, to hell we sendin them

I’m known to get busy and my name is Proof

They tried to lock up Trick and didn’t have no proof

Hook up the mic and a beat, I’ll flow some’in

The godfather capo was me, I’m cold crushin


[Kid Rock]

Catch my drift? Here’s my point

I’m laid and paid and made in Detroit

The old Mount Clemens, basement bandit

The only real mack left on the planet

You sell CD’s at 2 bucks a pop

I make 300 G’s every time the bus stops

The Kid, Proof, Esham and Trick

And if you don’t dig that you can suck my dick!


Trick-Trick Living Legend


Silent Killers

[Hook: SupaNova]

They want me to lose now

After everything I put in this bitch

What can I do now?

I done put my blood, sweat and tears in this shit

I just know when it’s over

They would never find another nigga like this

No, here we go, nigga, here we go

You’re fucking with a living legend

You should know that

And I’ma kill it ’til my last breath

You should know that

You’re fucking with a living legend

You should know that

And I’ma kill it ’til my last breath

You should know that

You know you’re fucking with a living legend

[Verse 1: Trick Trick]

It’s that one cat

Still trynna lock this city down, I done been there done that

Everything I whip up come back

A nigga saying otherwise, ask him “How come he ain’t come run that?”

Uh, you’d rather speak on the dark side of my imagination

With all that god damn hatin’

You’re followers of the god damn satan

I’m only trynna prevent another black man wasted

I never been into it with real nigga

Cause real niggas don’t get into it with real niggas

Either the best or the rest when you going for that check

But I never sacrificed my respect

[Hook: SupaNova]

[Verse 2: Trick Trick]

Gate keeper, got ’em asking “Who the fuck is you?”

Well, I’m that nigga that you asking ’bout

And I ain’t asking ’bout you cause I don’t give a fuck

Got them walking through with they chins tucked

Then what? I ain’t gotta be animated

And I don’t need a million followers to validate it

I make my own people tweet “‘Bout to fuck” when I lock the city up

So make sure everybody’s firearm is calibrated

See, I can pass on the Clash of the Titans

Cause I surpass to fighting then survive the indictments

And I respect if we different, we devided

You got a right to be you, I got a right not to like it

[Hook: SupaNova]

[Bridge: Trick Trick]

So what am I supposed to do?

Put the pen down? What is this, the end now?

I can’t let the devil win now

[Verse 3: Trick Trick]

If there’s one thing I ever learned it’s never give up

You ever get knocked down, you better get up

You ain’t the only one that feel it when the weather get rough

So don’t separate from your hustle ’til your cheddar get up

And if you really ’bout that life, you hook your brethren up

Y’all work until y’all can honestly say that nobody’s better than us

Hold up, why is it that every other race is more together than us

This is why they want me to shut up

But I made it, I took the hand I was dealt and I played it

To whoever the fuck [?] door he is, he never showed up

There come a time and a place where a man gotta grow the fuck up

Trick-Trick Twerk Dat, Pop That

[Hook: Trick Trick]

Get this paper (twerk dat, pop that)

Work that shaker (twerk dat, pop that)

Go ahead baby (twerk, twerk dat, pop that)

Turn around lady (twerk dat, pop that)

Everything on us now (twerk dat, pop that)

Turn down for what now (twerk, twerk dat, pop that)

Bag it up, turn around now (twerk dat, pop that)

Let me see you drop it down now (twerk, twerk, twerk dat, pop that)

[Verse 1: Trick Trick]

Who said gangstas don’t do that? Cause they lying

In the back of the pussy club, so mine

Getting drenched by the cheese, spend ’em rain or shine

They head to another one, can’t decline

What up to the DJ, straight to the back

Ten racks to the waitress, change for all that

Twenty something years old, ass so fat

Them boys in the club, D hats all black

Tops coming off, ass on the floor

Guess ten ain’t enough, so I gotta get more

They’ll lose their mind if I head to the door

They don’t love me, they love the bread I blow

God damn, got em on they hands and they knees

Scratching after scratch like rats for the cheese

I’m a dog, I even got scratch for the fleas

Touch your money, touch your knees


[Bridge: Royce Da 5’9″]

I’ve got a white girl

She’s a dancer

She do whatever I say, no matter what I ask her

Her action’s the answer

Of course she know I got a black girl

Who’s also a dancer

Don’t talk about your life, don’t wanna hear about your bottles and ice

Cause we got Marshall out the house tonight

[Verse 2: Eminem]

I’m in VIP with no ID with a pint of beam

Like I’m chiefing and wylin’ the fuck out like Bieber at nineteen

Or Ice-T in the in the 90s

Frightening in some Nikes slut, nice D’s

There a slight breeze? Don’t like me? Well then bite me

There might be a better chance of flight 370 turning up than us, bitch (highly unlikely)

Little dyke think ‘cause I’m Libra – you’re Pisces, and you’re feisty

That you’re like me, that you might find that we’re like minded

We ain’t nothing alike Diva, you like sleeves

I’m a wife beater you white tease

Bet you like skiing on white skis

The way you’re damaging yourself on the poles

Why don’t you grab this one and do the right thing like Spike Lee

And look out like you’re sightseeing and invite me in the back and bite me in the (God damn)

Shake that ass and titties Cassidy felt that

Dick so fat it could practically snap her chastity belt strap

Standing all in the back where my hotels at

She actually fell back and landed on somebody else’s lap

And laughed, thought she sat on Pharell’s hat


[Verse 3: Trick Trick]

Fresh out of damn near everything I had

Lil homie, just grabbed the whole damn bag

I could spin all year, never blow my stacks

Getting white boy wasted, hold my mag

Back to the spot, roll some up

So blown last night I toked some up

Lookers want anything, ain’t got enough

In the club without bra’s ready to get fucked

They drinking, smoking, touching, rubbing

Rolling, crowd’s in love with my thugging

Licking, tasting, kissing, sucking

SHIT! Tryna see who want fucking

Drop that thong, grab that pole

Bend it over, let me see what I can do with that (OH!)

Stack so big it ain’t never gonna fall

All the money I spend, you ain’t never gonna close


Trick-Trick Who Want It

[Verse – Trick Trick]

We been the killas with everything

From chest wets

To death treaths

The best yet

And niggas gettin their neck check

Best check to protect

Detroit is only known know

For best threats

So bet

We got decks

And hecks

Collect debt

And rest the goon sqad

We reck your whole set

We rep the midwest

You reppin niggas get wrong

Speak on your songy songs

Sendin them home

Stone sprone

And broken bones

Better leave us the fuckk alone

Keep it runnin thru niggas

Can’t even stomach what

The D got comin

Waitin until they frontin and poppin off at the chops boy

We poppin off shots

Guaranteeing a spot at the top

First place for niggas gettin guys who think you fuckkin with trick and eminem

No you not mother fucker

So next time you see us

Be sure that you make a hole

And when they mention the D

Get down on all fours

[Chorus – Trick Trick]

Got big killas with big guns (who want it)

Come to my hood

Get some (who want it)

Wanna start shit in the club boy (who want it)

Touched up (who want it)

Fucked up (who want it)


[Verse – Eminem]

Ooh wow, look at the bitches up in this club

Man I’m gettin me some digits fo I leave up out this mug

And it’s like oh pal, wam, bam, thank you ma’am

I ain’t kissin you on the lips, but I’ll be glad to shake your hand

Now let’s get blew out, let’s start some shit tonight

Just let me pick the chick that I’m a leave here with tonight

Before we get the fighting, and Throughout

This music makes me rally, how they gonna play that new trick trick

And expect no-one to get their shit spit

It’s just too wild, and one more shot of hypnotic

And I am not in control of my body, I go robotic and blow a fuse out

Homies is like you’re startin to static

And I’m nah that’s just my swagger but I’m dancing with this fat girl

And gettin Loose now, I don’t wanna fight, I feel like partying

Till’ this idiot dumps his bacardi on my cardigan and knocks my screws out

It never fails, I’m know I’m going to jail

I might as well take the laces out my shoes now

[Chorus – Trick Trick]

Got big killas with big guns (who want it)

Come to my hood, get some (who want it)

Wanna start shit in the club boy (who want it)

Touched up (who want it)

Fucked up (who want it)


[Verse – Trick Trick]

I hear them screamin

God damn it

There goes the eminem

There ain’t no hittin him

That think that we just cranked up

But he been them

It’s trick and them

Goon sqad gangstas

You can’t get to him

We down for the bang and the brawl

But now we killin him

See ever since we started

You might of had to pardon our hardest

From the largest city

They sayin that we retarded

And ? brought us over

Some of their artists got dropped

You think I’m playin

Then bring it

Come on let’s see what you got

We make the club go bang (gun shot)

You got that light noise

See ain’t nobody fucking with this nigga and this white boy

That been through the realest and the pros

Street just like hoes

We put the thugs on

On him and?

We don’t give a fuck about nothin you used to do

This record is not equalient to high scool musical

No blaming paul or dre

Blame me for everything I say

Cause I got him nigga

[Chorus – Trick Trick]

Got big killas with big guns (who want it)

Come to my hood, get some (who want it)

Wanna start shit in the club boy (who want it)

Touched up (who want it)

Fucked up (who want it)


Trick-Trick Welcome 2 Detroit

[Eminem talking]

Yeah yeah


Let’s show ’em some love

Welcome to Detroit

[Chorus – Eminem]

Where’s my gangstas and all my thugs

Throw them hands up and show some love

And I Welcome you to Detroit City

I said Welcome to Detroit City

Every place, everywhere we go

Man we deep everywhere we roll

Ask around and they all know Tricky

That’s what’s good man they all say Tricky

[Verse 1 – Eminem]

Click click boom, just as soon as we hit the room

You can hear ’em holla Goon Squad in this bitch

Let me hear you holla Goon Squad in this bitch

Let me hear you holla Runyon Ave. in this bitch

So who am I gonna call on when I ain’t got them boys with me

And the situation gets a little sticky

I’ma dial 911 like a motherfuckin’ punk, fuck that, bla bla

I’ma call that rude boy from Detroit, Trick Trick

Quick come pick me up, bring them guns

Come to the club, meet me out front

There’s some chump up in this bitch

Poppin’ some junk cause he’s drunk

And we may have to fuck his ass up

Cause uh, somethin’ smells a lil’ fishy

And I don’t like the way his boys keep lookin’ at me

So homie come get me, Chedda boys what up though I see you

Rock Bottom, yeah I see you, all my Detroit people

Where you at man, let me see them hands in the sky

Detroit motherfuckers ’till we die

[Chorus – Eminem]

Where’s my gangstas and all my thugs

Throw them hands up and show some love

And I Welcome you to Detroit City

I said Welcome to Detroit City

Every place, everywhere we go

Man we deep everywhere we roll

Ask around and they all know Tricky

That’s what’s good man they all say Tricky

[Verse 2 – Trick Trick]

Homie it’s been a long time comin’ and I’m straight with that

Marshall call me the fifty ?? and laced the track

This the beat, you hear it bangin’, he produced it himself

My bad, almost forgot to introduce myself

My name is Trick Trick, head of the Goon Squad

And gangsta been bangin’ the underground since ’95, we’re bangin’

Elected to be the villain and certified a menace

Holdin’ it down since I paroled up outta prison

You heard about me, you just didn’t know it was me

All the treacherous, evil deeds of the D you never see

Pickin’ that kid up in the game, I just wasn’t chasin’ the fame

I been chasin’ the paper product and givin’ lames the pain

Accusations of violence you know you done heard of that

A quarter of a million dollars for beatin’ a murder rap

And my boy holdin’ me up, Shady done put it out

Trick Trick and Eminem, Detroit back in the house

[Chorus – Eminem]

[Verse 3 – Trick Trick]

Ayo Em, you ever need one of these weapons come get it

From now on every beef that you get in, homie I’m in it

I been ridin’ for this city, whether wrong or right

I been whippin’ on motherfuckers for the longest time

So it’s evident, it’s time for Trick to get it fast

The public, see they appreciate my criminal past

Authorities tried to stop me but they couldn’t keep up

Got a fan-base that’s bigger then an average star

I’m satisfied with it bein’ my time to shine

And I freak from the precinct for violent crimes

I ain’t sayin’ the shit that I’m sayin’ so girls can fear me

Only speakin’ on what I know so the world can hear me

So peace to Jimmy and Dre for signin’ my nigga

He reached back to Detroit and grabbed a winner

So the gangstas and thugs, we embrace with love

And beat the hell outta anybody that fuck with us

[Chorus – Eminem]


Yeah, Trick Trick

Eminem, Wonder Boy, Shady

It’s goin’ down baby

Ayo Em, I got you back my nigga

Damn right I said my nigga

That’s my nigga


Trick-Trick Let’s Roll

[Intro: Mr. Porter (Trick)]

Yup, HOOOO! Yup!

Here we go y’all, yeah!

Huh, Mr. Porter y’all (you gotta make it bounce)

Trick-Trick y’all (cause that’s what’s up)

Uh-huh, c’mon c’mon (c’mon, you gotta make it bounce)

Runyon Ave y’all (boy, cause that’s what’s up)

Good Sqwad y’all, Wonderboy y’all (let’s roll)

[Chorus: Mr. Porter]

Now money ain’t a problem if you’re rollin with me

All you gotta do is make it happen for me

And let’s roll, roll, roll, roll

Now let’s, now let’s, now let’s go

Now ain’t nobody trippin, we just want a relief

Bend a couple corners, maybe hit up parties

So let’s roll, roll, roll, roll

Now let’s, now let’s, now let’s go

[Mr. Porter – over Chorus]


Let’s, c’mon

Yeah, uh-huh

Ay Trick, you gotta love it!

C’mon baby, let’s go


It’s 10 o’clock in the AM, I’m feelin alright

My folks havin a backyard party tonight

Hit the shower for an hour, and brush my grill

Call Diezel to make sure he ain’t puttin pork on the grill

Call J up, pour Cristal on the Mile, what’s up

I need a case of everything that’ll fit in the trunk

of the six, huh, maybe I’ll drive the five

I don’t know; feel like a kid at the candy sto’

Or I might get the 6-3, that sit on 13’s

With sixteen Cali niggaz know what I mean

And it’s all to the green, I gots to hit my stash

cause I don’t know another way, I can watch this cash (c’mon!)

Yup, I gots to roll through the hood and see

It’s some 21 year olds wanna roll with me

I’d beat, hop on in, is that yo’ friend? She can go

Long as she ready to ride, now let’s roll


[Mr. Porter]

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon

Uh-huh, you gotta love it!

Yeah! Mr. Porter!

See I ain’t into all of the fightin and fussin and foolin

In front of a club, what the fuck y’all provin?

You ain’t ’bout your money partner, you ain’t movin

When I’m about mine pimpin I ain’t losin

How else can I pay for the G5?

Wrist glistenin, don’t it look good in the rides?

ERRRT! Ladies heads go ERRRT!

When they think a nigga is paid

Flip flap paint, still look good in the shade

But wait, pull a little off a click, little alpha[?] blade

And {“HUH? WHAT?”} what you say, say?

Lil’ more for Bugz, Jam Master Jay

that, paved the way for us to make

a lil’ more money than we did back in the day

And, word to my daughter T bay-bay

Give you a nice and easy for sayin them bulk

when really money ain’t a problem if you’re rollin with me, me


[Chorus w/ ad libs]


Yo, these lil’ young girls whylin out

Told ’em chill, we on the way to my momma’s house

Pimped out, placed my right hand on her thigh

And the beam from VVS, hit her in the eye like HIIIII

I used to think that they was blowin me off

Now they takin me to they momma’s and they showin me off

Now they momma’s ready to ride, I got the clique Antone[?]

He in a, E-S V with 26-inch chrome

We gotta, get to this party and crank it up

In a six full of ass wanna spank it up

That’s what’s up, food and drink with some bad hoes

I’m lovin to see ’em steppin with them pedicured toes (ohh!)

Today’s the day, tonight’s the night

A backyard party and it ain’t no fights

Who footin the whole bill? Anybody wanna go?

Long as you know that you out for the night, so let’s roll

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[Outro: Mr. Porter]

Ladies and gentlemen!

I’d like to thank you all for comin out tonight

Detroit City, Runyon Ave

Wonderboy, Trick-Trick, Mr. Porter

Let’s GO! WOO!

Trick-Trick No More To Say

[Intro: Trick-Trick]

You know what the days of talkin is over

It ain’t too much mo’ we can say

to try to get these, different individuals

Or motherfuckers as I like to call ’em

To just, shut the fuck up

Let’s go


You witnessed the ass whoopin, bones got broke

When the .50-cal blast, couldn’t last through the smoke

As you choke, pay attention, bear winess to this motherfucker twitchin

You excited cause none of the bullets hit you, they missed you

And we ain’t trippin, wasn’t after you

But you PISSED, just like a bitch when niggaz laughed at you

Now you agitated a little bit, actin just like a little bitch

I figured that you would surface and knew you happened to manage to pop shit

Sayin “Trick that, Trick this”

When the balls that you had left when I popped him

You shoulda died with him, body and soul coulda burned

I’ma keep killin these bitches ’til everybody learn

FUCK time, and it’s time these fuckers just start dyin

I ain’t sayin this for sake of this rhyme, and I ain’t LYIN

I’m man enough to say it and mean it, niggaz can be gone

I’ma do another verse but it ain’t much more I can SPEAK on!

[Chorus: Eminem]

There’s nothin more these words can say (can say)

This hard-headed motherfucker just won’t let it lay (let it lay)

So say a prayer for this player cause he’s goin to his grave (to his grave)

So stand clear, bitches better get the fuck out my way (my way)


Let me show you how I started as a starvin artist

This is Proof with the truth regardless of all this (for real)

As my CEO and best friend of the essence

of why nobody in Detroit wan’ test him (huh?)

Lesson learned, flesh get burned

Tecs in turn, a scar harder than a press and burn

Everlast the beef is over, you can sleep this over

Clique been filled the streets with soldiers

Includin me, I move and creep with uzi fleets

that choose to lead, I’ll put your dudes to sleep

Who is he? (Trick!) Trick, no treat

That street life, AK that still’ll lift your feet (blaow!)

The rest of these niggaz is comical, I’ma go abdominal

Split like a domino, rhymin pro

Shine without a diamond, go Geronimo to any man with balls

Murder you bitches, still screamin “FUCK the law!”



Since talkin about it is considered as conversation

then I’m more than HAPPY to be the sponsor of demonstrations

From beatin these cases to bustin in faces and bustin these K’s

Niggaz gon’ act like they don’t wanna act right

FUCK THAT! Had to begin settin the trend

of organizin a mob, and bringin it to an end

The levels of toleration’ll cease, for givin passes

That’s why my reputation precedes for beatin asses

Entertainers, they take it as a joke and they tend to provoke

an up-and-comin undergrad; motherfuckers got me mad

Fuck it, I’ma give it to ’em if you really gon’ do ’em

If this motherfucker even BLINKS, put a clip into him

Don’t even think of negotiatin a treaty

The reason most of these niggaz is hatin is cause they greedy

Uncovered another man’s SHIT, now that’s a real bitch

Now the NEXT motherfucker gon’ DIE, that’s IT!


[Outro: Trick-Trick]

Kill one of you bitches

Trick-Trick All Around The World

[Intro: Trick Trick]

Okay, hip-hop might be in a state of emergency

But you can’t really blame the artists

Don’t point the finger, y’knowmsayin?

Let’s do what we do, let them do what they do

They all sayin the same shit anyway

Let’s do what we wanna do

Trick Trick, Royce 5’9″

[Trick Trick]

Done all types of dirt all across the world

And all kind of shows for you boys and girls (heyyy!)

High schools to shows of nothin but old folks

G.D.’s, blue rags, red rags and [?]

Detroit to L.A., B-Ham to Jersey

Atlanta to B.K., A-Z to V-A

Now I done seen some strange shit

But all around the world homeboy it’s the same shit

I’ll tell you this; ain’t got a gang of crews on these blocks (so what?)

Heard it’s a pretty bitch just itchin to get knocked (so what?)

Lines of broads at these shows (so what?)

With backstage passes and wantin to be chose (so what?)

Everybody wanna be better than the next

It’s the same everybody claimin they better than the rest (oooh)

Everybody got a Glock, everybody got a spot

Everybody sell dope – WHO DON’T?


Allllll arouuuuund the worrrrrld (it’s the same old song homie)

Rouuuuund and rouuuuund we goooo (yeah)

Allllll arouuuuund the worrrrrld (it’s just the same old song homie)

Rouuuuund and rouuuuund we goooo (yep)

[Trick Trick]


Uh; can we get a moment to reflect

on the music that we distributin and tryin to eject?

Yep, your sounds ain’t goin down (so)

Blame it on downloads but it’s the same old sound

Everybody is a killer, man go and tell the truth!

Most of y’all ain’t killers ’til your ass in the booth

Take a look in the mirror and be honest with yo’self

You got a guap on records off another nigga’s wealth

Truth hurt, don’t it? You think you ain’t special enough?

With some people to listen to you so you makin it tough

At a show you too hard to throw your Goddamn hands up

While I’m at it, man pull yo’ Goddamn pants up!

In real life in the joint if you sad

You belong to a man and yo’ ass is a fag (ooooh)

I ain’t mad at niggaz changin the game

cause the world is lookin at us like we all the same, so


[Royce Da 5’9″]

My nigga I got you!

I got you, don’t worry about it

Yeah, yeah

Bitch please, get lost, I get big cheese

Me and Trick be gettin green like split peas

Pick a place, any place

I done been through it, pick a state, any state

And if you ain’t geographically inclined

you can get the globe and you can pick a shape, any shape

Heh, where you from? I could care less

I’m fearless, I’ll show you so you will know it’s real

Cause once the K’s get to tearin whole blocks up

Like (blam blam blam) now you from Cloverfield

I just look like this, I do it just to get the kitty cat

I’m bringin niggaz that look pretty back

And while I’m at it I’m bringin Detroit city back

Holla when you land, I’ll take you to where the titties at

(Titties at) You lil’ niggaz is lame

Put the tobacco back in the blunt, you spittin the same

We goin


[Outro: Trick Trick]

Go on mayne, hip-hop ain’t dead homie…

I like that dawg

That’s some real shit…

Hehehe, you just thumpin the hell out that bass, ain’t ya?


Trick-Trick M-1


That’s some FUCKED UP shit man

I’m fightin for my motherfuckin life

I’m sittin here all this time over some dumb shit?

These bitches out to kill me, they ain’t playin!

I ain’t talkin ’bout no niggaz either

I’m talkin ’bout the motherfucker pigs

FUCK it, let’s GO!

What would be the reason for me to jump out of the whip

and run up on a motherfucker with a 50-round clip

and cake him in the back of his head four or five times?

His brain matter was scattered, plastered out of his mind

His sister, got on the stand and told that, mouthful of lies

And steady, pointin the finger but wouldn’t look me in my eyes

Not ONCE, did this bitch even acknowledge the real

I was in my truck at the corner when her brother was killed

Nowhere near the scene, I’m clean far as murder’s concerned

But they after me, I see, with a warrant to serve

A conviction never the issue, y’all guineas[?] after some tissue

She after me for the money; her nose snottin and runny

This overreactin hoodrat lacin ’em with them lies

Assistant to district attorney chargin, I’m facin life

I done turned myself in, with no reason to run

I ain’t murdered a damn thing so FUCK yo’ M-1!

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

You can’t get me, tryin to convict me

But you can’t stick me with an M-1

Prosecution against me, cops wanna clip me

Judge is against me, I’m the wrong one

This got to be the most, sickenin situation, fightin this murder case and

Gotta be strong and patient, look at the time I’m facin

Get it outta my face, don’t even think of offerin me a cop

180 years? You got to stop!

You got to be shamed for wastin my time

How ’bout pinnin this on the person who committed this crime?

I was taught, swallow yo’ own, mashin when you wrong

When people can’t get along, leave ’em the fuck alone

Speakin of people that thinkin that people is evil

He stuck around for the fight and SHOT him in broad daylight

Can’t imagine havin to do LIFE, for somethin I’ve seen

But I’m only bein rebellious if you know what I mean

I ain’t speakin to y’all dawg, that’s all they finna get

Tryin to get me to give a statement, give me a cigarette!

Give me fifty ki’s of raw for tellin you what I saw

A hundred dollars a gram then murder won’t give a damn


Now I’m ’bout sick of this motherfuckin ridiculous shit that I keep on hearin

All these notions and these motherfuckin hearings

The prosecution’s a idiot, my record’s enticin

It wasn’t no better than the court appointed, I’m tryin to prove a POINT

that I wasn’t the shooter and the photographs of the victim that you keep showin

ain’t movin and I ain’t know him

What happened I get a check from rappin and NOT from bein a cop

I never LIKED you motherfucker so STOP!

Fuck the police, and yo’ investigation

His way of intimidation was more like a presentation of LIES

I see it off in his eyes, he after my soul

But I’ll never give it away to you bitches and hoes

Instead of killin these niggaz we need to look at the bigger picture

Get to pop us a month or just maybe order some coffins

and bury us motherfuckers, that’s puttin in work

Just to bust ’em in the back of the head, dick in the dirt




Still ain’t got nothin for you bitches!

I beat that shit bitch


Trick-Trick Let It Fly

[Intro: Trick Trick]

Yeah! This your boy Trick Trick

I got my dawg Ice Cube in this motherfucker (Lench Mob!)

I got my dawg Lil Jon close by too

Right about now I need everybody to get they motherfuckin hands up

And wherever the fuck you from

Let the whole club see it

What! What! Like this!

[Chorus: Lil Jon]

Throw your hood up, nigga let me see it (let me see it)

Throw your sets up high in the sky (in the sky)

Let the whole club know that you in this bitch

Throw your hood up, nigga let it fly (let it fly)

[Trick Trick]

From 7 Mile, B.K. to Crenshaw to Camden to Bankhead

All our homies get cheese (get cheese)

Lynnwood to A-Z, Compton to Brook-nam

Fifth Ward hitters pimp be (pimp be)

School Craft to Grape Street, Harlem to 8th Street

Ninth Ward killers throw it up (throw it up)

Southwest to Brightmo’, Puritan to 6 Mile

Number streets won’t hold ’em up (hold ’em up)

Eastside you see the E’s, Westside show the dubs

Riders all around throwin fourths (throwin fourth)

Blue and red flags up in the air hangin high

and can see ’em C’in and B-walk (B-walk)

Little G’s khaki suited with French braids, AF-1’s

Ducati frames on beams (on beams)

O.G.’s distributin them big thangs swingin them big chains

Sportin that lil’ teen (teen)


[Ice Cube]

Yeah G-A-N-G-S-T-A (gangsta)

S-H-I-T in a white tee (you know)

I am the H-double-O-D

Y’all niggaz know me, the big double O.G. (yea-yea)

Fuck the police, I used to roll goalie

I used to hold these and drink down 40’s

All the rolies would come to control me

I’m uncontrollable when I’m on some gold D’s (ooh-ooooh!)

Back the fuck up, I’m hard as concrete

Sidewalk gun talk university

Every hood’s the same, up in Detroit

I’m with Trick Trick, smoked about three joints

On to bump one ‘fore we hit the parkin lot

After the fifth one niggaz don’t talk a lot

Hit the club, mean mug, what you lookin at? (What you lookin at?)

Who that bitch you with? I’ll put a hook in that


[Lil Jon]

If you true to yo’ hood and you rep yo’ set

Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, throw it up

Eastside, Westside, Southside, where you at?

Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, throw it up

What up cuz, cuz? What up Blood, Blood?

Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, throw it up

Midwest, West Coast, Dirty South, East Coast

Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, throw it up


[Outro: Ice Cube (Trick)]

What up Trick Trick? (What up O.G.?)

This your nigga Ice Cube (right)

Now check this out, I’m in downtown Detroit (alright)

On my way to the club (right)

I find out, that the bitch I’m text messagin (uh-huh)

Is the same bitch the mayor’s text messagin (OHHH!)

What niggaz to do man?

But keep it hood, fuck it