Letra 8 Ball de Eazy-e original

I don't drink monkey
Like the beat funky
Nick name Eazy-E
Yo 8-Ball Junkie
Bass drum kickin
To show my sht
Rappin holdin of my dck
Boy I don't quit
Crime rappin mutha fcka
>From around the way
I gotta sick shooter
Yo mean hombre
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 in my lap
And it's freezin my balls
I Hooked a right turn
Let the boys go past
And I say to myself
'They can kiss my a'
Get drunk got the 8 in my lips
Put in the old tape
Marvin Gayes Greatest hits
Turn the shit up
Have the base cold rompin
Crusin 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
Hoe on my tipp
For the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's Fcked up
An got the 8-Ball rollin'
Courus
(I was)
Who Kickin' a?
(I was)
Raised in LA
(I was)
Crusin down the street in my 6-4
(to much posse)
Ridin Los Loses
Lookin for Crenshaw
Turned down the sound
To diss the law
Stopped at a light
And had a fit
Cause a Mexican almost
Wreaked my shit
Flipped his a off
to the floor
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 of dodge
Suckers on me
For the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's Fcked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin
(Fuck It Up ya`ll) x6
(YEAH)
Old East 800
'cause that's my brand
Take it in a bottle
40, Quart, or Can
Drink it like a mad man
Yes I do
FK the police
And a 502
Stepped in the party
I was drunk as hell
Three bches already said
'Eric yo breath smells'
40 ounce in hand
That's 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 bch
Cause that's the rule
Boyz in the hood
Tryin to keep me cool
You tell my homeboy
You wanna kick my but
I walked in your 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 bch
Is all over his dk)
Punk got dropped
For the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's fcked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin
Courus
Pass the brew Mtha Fckas
While I trash shit 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 gd damn funky
Do the old 8
Fck the Brass Monkey
Ice Cube writes the rhymes
That I say
Hail to the niggaz
>From CIA
Cazy beat/D is down
And in effect
We make hard core jams
So fuck respect
Make a toast toast puppy punk
To the title I'm holdin
Eazy-E's fcked up
And got the 8-Ball rollin