I don't drink brass monkey
Like to be funky
Nick named Eazy-E
Yo 8-Ball Junkie
Bass drum kickin
To show my shit
Rappin holdin my dick
Boy I dont quit
Crowd rockin' mutha fucka
From around the way
I gotta sick shooter
Yo mean hombre
Wanderin 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 freezin my balls
Hooked a right turn
Let the boys go past
And I say to myself
"They can kiss my ass"
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 whompin
Crusin through
the East Side
South of Compton
See a big ass
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 holdin'
Eazy-E's Fucked up
An got the 8-Ball rollin'

Chorus

(I was)
Whose Kickin' ass?
(I was)
Raised in LA
(I was)
Crusin down the
street in my 6-4

Ridin Los Loses
Lookin for Crenshaw
Turned down the sound
To ditch the law
Stopped at a light
And had a fit
Cause a Mexican almost
Wrecked my shit
Flipped his ass off
Put it to the floor
My bottle was empty
So I went to the store
Nigga on tilt
Cause I was drunk
See ya sissy ass 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
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/Op8A sissy like that
Got out to dodge
Suckers on me
For the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's Fucked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin

Chorus

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
Fuck the police
And the 5-0 too!
Stepped in the party
I was drunk as hell
Three bitches already said
"Eric yo breath smells"
40 ounce in hand
Thats what I got
(Yo man you see
Eazy hurlin in a
parking lot)
Stepped on yo foot
Cold dissed yo hoe
Asked her to dance
And she said "hell no"
Called her a bitch
Cause thats the rule
Boyz in the hood
Tryin' to keep me cool
Dammit homeboy
You wanna kick my but
I walk in you face
And we get them up
I start droppin 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 bitch
is all over his dick)
Fool got dropped
For the title I'm holdin'
Eazy-E's fucked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin'

Chorus

Pass the brew Motha Fuckas
While I trash it up
And yall listen
up close to role
call:
Eazy-E's in the place
I got money and juice
Rondevues with me
And we make the duce
Dre makes the beat
So god damn funky
Do the old 8
Fuck the Brass Monkey
Ice Cube writes the rhymes
That I say
Hail to the niggaz
From CIA
Crazy beat is down
And in effect
We make hard core jams
So fuck respect
They can toast
public parking
For the title I'm holdin'
Eazy-E's fucked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin'