G Style lyrics

Artist  : Ice T 
Song : G Style



 Send "G Style" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

Intro:

Yeah! Right about now motherfuckers
is layin for a nigga like me Ice T
to bust some
freestyle shit... but I don't do that
I just
cold lounge up here at the Ammo Dump
with my
nigga Alladdin SLJ LP and my nigga Henry
G
Yeah we do the shit like this

Verse
One:

The card after the ace is deuce
So
cut the nigga loose on the 3
That's me
The
motherfuckin T
I got ride on my
surfboard
Rhyme hard
But only buy the shit
that I can't afford
That's
everything
That's why I truck big fat
rings
Cause in the motherland gold is for
kings
I got backup
To jack up
Punks who
try to act up
Do a world tour
Watch the big
bank stack up
Motherfuckers get dropped with
the quickness
I got an ill left and a right
fist
Make mistakes and you'll lose
Or you
might die
Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your
bruise
And that's no lie
Meanwhile the
penile is stacked to the top with my
niggaz
Mostly for squeezin triggas
I call
em homies
Pigs call em crooks
So I write
and put bucks on they books
I give a fuck
about a cop or a G-man
They all talk
shit
Their breath smellin like semen
I
catch em in the alley all alone
Put em in the
prone
Pop! Pop! Pop! To the
dome

Chorus:

It's the
G-style
Gangsta style

Verse 2:

G
Style, The gangsta talk
I got a teflon
.9
And it eats vest
I take a motherfucker
out quick
Just for talkin shit
Ride
Rolls
Catch hoes like a mitt
LA, Atlanta,
New York
Yo, my shit rocks
Chi-town, Miami,
Detroit
I get much props
Because I roll with
the hardcore G
Every street's the same street
to me
I don't bullshit
I don't
quit
Writin a rhyme fit
KKK pray each
day
That I get hit
Motherfuckers try to
flip on the Icepick
Move and slip
Close the
eyes and catch a fuckin clip
Not in the ghetto
no more
But I do hang
Got a black
game
And it's sittin on them thangs
I kick
the game from the street
Not the
slamma
Tighten up my knockas with a big lead
hammer

Chorus

Verse
Three:

Some of the times
I write my
raps with extreme speed
Some of the times
I
take the pen and make pads bleed
My mind clicks
to Homocide
Bullets fly
Ladies cry
A lot
of people die
Some nights I can't
right
Stare at the blue lines
I think I'm a
go blind
Then the beat becomes me
Sit in the
dark
And write a whole fuckin LP
G Style,
the gangsta talk
Never near soft
Hard as a
knockout bout
It's no sellout
I keep crime
in my rhyme
Cause it's my thing
Packed with
guns
And drugs
And lots of street
slang
A-B-C-D-E-F, and LAPD
Words from a
motherfuckin OG
Ammo Dump pumps the sounds
that you bump in your trunk
So turn it up
punk
What'cha fraid of?
What'cha made
of?
Pull the pin
Set the grenade
off
Blastin sounds out ya jeep
On every
city street, nigga
Straight gangsta
beat

Chorus

Verse Four:

Many
like to dress the style, and act hardcore
Many
motherfuckers are and they crack jaws
I like
to lay in the cut
In a nightclub
Don't
smoke bud
Drink suds
But I gets loved,
mack, cool
I scope the freak with the mad
backs
Hit her with the gangsta style
Cool,
relaxed, bam
Put her in the Benz
Bump Too
$hort, let her know
Right off the top, what's
my sport
You think long
You think
wrong
You got it goin on, baby doll?
But I
won't sing you no love song
You either love
me
Or you don't
You're either rollin
tonight
Or you won't
She likes the
style
Cause it don't bullshit around
Tounge
in my ear, real slow
And then it went down
I
gotta flip into a ill mode
Pack a clip full of
hype tracks
And then unload
Music for the
hardcore beatdown
No weak pop shit
Strictly
underground
And if you don't like the style, as
I get wreck
Ease back nigga, catch a knife
through the neck

Chorus