8 Ball lyrics

by

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony


Kick that sh*t...

I don't drink brass monkey
Like to be funky
Nickname Bullet Loc
Your 8-ball junkie
Bass drum kickin' to show my sh*t
Rockin', holdin' my di*k
Boy
I don't quit
Crowd rockin' muthaf*cka from around the way
I got a six-shooter, yo, mean I'm brave
Rollin' 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's in my lap and it's freezin' my balls
Hook a right turn, 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 sh*t up had the bass on high on
Cruisin' through the East Side, South ??
Seen the b*tch ass
Then I say word
Took a look at the face and the b*tch was street curb
Ho's on my di*k for the title I'm holdin'
Bullet Loc f*cked up and got the 8-ball rollin

In the cityyyyy --] Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock
Kick that sh*t --] Flavor Flav

Ridin' on ??? weed is on ???
Turned down the sound
And ditch the law
Stopped at a light and had a fit
Cause old b*tch almost wrecked my sh*t
Flipped his ass off, put it to the floor
Bottle was empty so I went to the store
n*gga on tilt cause I was drunk
See an enemy on mine, 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 ?? cause
I had to show the n*gga what time it was
Pulled out the heat
And like a mirage
A busta like that got out of dodge
Sucker's on me cause the title I'm holdin'
Bullet Loc's f*cked up and got the 8 ball rollin'

In the cityyyyy --] Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock
Kick that sh*t --] Flavor Flav

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
f*ck the police and the 5.0 too
Stepped in the party, I was drunk as hell
3 b*tches already said: "Ohh Bullet your breath smells!"
40 ounce in hand
That's what I got
(Yo, you see Bullet earlin' in the parkin lot?)
Stepped on your foot, cold dissed your ho'
Asked her to dance and she said: "Hell no!"
Called her a b*tch cause that's the rule
(b*tch, who d'you callin' a b*tch?)
Boyz in the hood tryin' to keep me cool
Tell your homeboy you wanna kick my butt
I walked in your face and we get 'em up
I start droppin' the dogs
And watch you fold
Just dumb full of c*m, got knocked out cold
(Ah aha, made you look sick you snotty nosed prick
Now your fly b*tch is all over his di*k)
Punk got dropped cause the title I'm holdin'
Bullet Loc f*cked up and got the 8-ball rollin'

In the cityyyyy --] Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock
Kick that sh*t --] Flavor Flav

Pass the brew muthaf*cka while I tear sh*t up
And y'all listen up close to roll call
Bullet Loc's in this b*tch, I got money and juice
Blue crooks with me and we make the deuce
Ant Banks makes the beats so muthaf*ckin' funky
Do the Olde 8
f*ck the brass monkey
I write all the rhymes
That I say
Hail to the n*ggas from C.I.A
Blue Tray is down and in effect
We make hardcore jams so f*ck respect
Make a toast blue beast to the title I'm holdin'
Bullet Loc's f*cked up and got the 8-ball rollin'

In the cityyyyy --] Ronnie Hudson's West Coast Pop Lock

Yeah yeah n*gga
Bullet Loc is in this biotch
Rest In Peace to my n*gga Eazy-E
Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha what!

In the cityyyyy (San Diego)
Kick that sh*t --] Flavor Flav
In the cityyyyy (San Diego)
Kick that sh*t --] Flavor Flav

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