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Ice-T - The 7th lyrics
Thanks to dalyricalmaster@tupac.com for these lyrics. (Ant Banks) This is Ant Banks, and it's hella motherfuckin' deadly sins But don't ever fuck with the seventh bitch (Intro: Ras Kass) Yeah, seventh, uh-huh, first things first man you're messin' with the worst One, come on, come on, one (Chorus: Marc Live) Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady Run son the hour has come, touch ya Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme we walk up and buck ya Stuck ya in the head, rush ya Trife niggas knife you, seven venoms fight you Your life's through, fuckin' with the wrong click - kapow!! From the crackhouse, niggas quick to blow your back out (Marc Live) Enough talk, niggas talk too much, let's set it Time to splash bitch niggas, gun fights, paramedics Call my regiment up at midnight, tape on a flash light Youn claim you want beef, it's too tough, called your bluff Shot you at such close range, blew out your eardrum Caught you with my mack, blast your cage our your back Yo, the nigga stepped up and got bucked by my ninja's Casualty after casualty all up in ya Ya not a street vet yet bitch, just a beginner My niggas eat punk like your crew for dinner Rock ya in broad daylight to make the wrist-double Hit ya then lower my gun and watch ya chest bubble Step up, feel the Teflon, black talent Rip through your vest, hit your chest, lose your balance You never had no drama with the real, now ya want it? My skill got you haunted, my ski-mask got ??? (Marc Live) Aiyyo blackout, my whole click we blastout The wrong move, show improve you assed out Venom it, warn the niggas, treacherous Squeeze automatic, quick to bust fuck with us Yo the worst niggas, work the bitch to double figures In new sixes, hennessey with dark mixes The richest, fuck around, you won't fix it Toke, heavy metal, settle shit, rebel shit Fuck a cop, why not, we last niggas on your block Last standin', coked up, we fucked up Twenty g's, rope 'em up, you in the trunk - Lex Coupe I'll leave a nigga with cement boots Now we off lootin', hold me down, yo I'll start shootin' in ya double lefts and tell the rest an' Marc Li-ive, fuck the pad, bust his ass and slide my fuckin' heat in the stash (Chorus: Marc Live) Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady Run son the hour has come, touch ya Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme we walk up and buck ya Stuck ya in the head, rush ya Trife niggas knife you, seven venoms fight you Your life's through, fuckin' with the wrong click - kapow!! From the crackhouse, niggas quick to blow your back out (Ras Kass) She musta kicked off like special teams I walk rare from a muchy bled nigga all lookin' like Grenedine Murder scene, three to the head, three to the sline We tied that motherfuckin' number like Kareem It seems that I used to wonder why niggas don't give a fuck within 2G - niggas is just buck From hip-hoppers to gangsta's, sportin' stompers at yompers The mirror has two faces in this room is not proper So we religiously pray for peace and pack one I walk softly, carry a big dick these family jewels is my most important riches but I still want my liquor, my sorry-ass friends and my bitch And nigga this me, I only see green like a Marine Support Calvin Klein jeans, fed a bitch from the Phillipines with a immoral nose ring (masterbatin' with a magazine!!) Yeah, I'm acid 9 and half the time undercover Fuck you, your lesbain lover and your mother with the same brother The blade runner, my games' tight I could talk the Virgin Mary outta panties the same night (Castrophe) And that's the seventh deadly sin as the terror begins Me and my friends came to rob ya for your props and your ends Tuck it in, my niggas want, whatever's costin' The rings plus the watch, plus thst chain from the slossin' Son, that's why I go in and shit stop Last night my nigga Ice-T had to pop a cop I write the chop-chop lyrics, tryin' not to scratch the detail I put 'em through the system, slang 'em out at full retail It's thirty g's for the title and the ki's Throw in the extra three and take the tyres and the D's Nigga please, this is lik-wit and I'm the Alki At three months from now you're gonna read all about me One cause I smoke 'em, two cause I'm wealthy Three because I rapped on my nigga Ice's LP It's Castrophe, lik-wit fam, lik-wit crew West Coast is in the house nigga, what you wanna do? (Chorus: Marc Live) Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady Run son the hour has come, touch ya Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme we walk up and buck ya Stuck ya in the head, rush ya Trife niggas knife you, seven venoms fight you Your life's through, fuckin' with the wrong click - kapow!! From the crackhouse, niggas quick to blow your back out (Outro: Marc Live) Yeah, seventh deadly sin bitch Ice-T, Marc Li-ive, Ras Kass, Castrophe... |
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