Hip Hop Icons

Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Kay Slay] Hey, yo, it's DJ Kay Slay, the drama king Ice-T, Kool G Rap Hip-Hop Icons Let's go [Chorus: Ice-T] It's been a long time, niggas forgot You push up on mine, niggas get shot Master with the caliber, don't respect your throne Don't worry 'bout me, the devil protects its own [Verse 1: Ice-T] It's so often, I stare and gaze into a coffin But I don't cry, niggas must die My bloodlust is unquenchable My thirst for revenge you bitch niggas can't comprehend I might let you live a few years, feel yourself Death is always near and then it gets dealt This ain't the pop that the kids bop to This what the hard rocks cock Glocks to I hate rap niggas, I love street cats I serve wack niggas, please believe that Iceberg bitch, motherfucker you heard I been away for a minute so the lines got blurred I ain't impressed by your jewelry, that could get took Don't floss around me, nigga, you shook All your dope talk, crack talk, trap talk bullshit How could real niggas stomach your lies? You never fuck with no live niggas I know Only place you're hard is in your motherfucking bio I'ma go on 'cause I feel the mic starting to heat Grip the wood on your wheel, lay back in your seat I ain't new to this shit, I could rap for weeks Especially with these Kay Slay types of beats Listen [Chorus: Ice-T] It's been a long time, niggas forgot You push up on mine, niggas get shot Master with the caliber, don't respect your throne Don't worry 'bout me, the devil protects its own [Verse 2: Kool G Rap] KGR boy, Queens grime nigga Turn your block into the scene of the crime niggas A mean shine, nigga, the beam on the nine, nigga Killers move in silence and violence of mines whisper Corona the own, I rep it to the death boy Soda bottle or nozzle to lower down the deck boys Everyday generating another hood chronicle Niggas come comical, I fix 'em with the llama too The money in '85 was so astronomical Chest, neck gripping with ice like I'm Commodore Yeah, nigga, this the auto bio Fuck with the auto, die yo Murder here, my nigga, universe caught a slug in the eye, yo Pies seventeen five moving the bottles Bottom of the pot rock pat 'em and dry those Lay low from homicide with a side hoe, you know how it go [Verse 3: Ice-T] Get your gats out, hoods on, masks up In my dark world fuck boys get touched I'm much older and colder now No beat, just release the hounds I move the social elite from the concrete It wasn't easy, lotta blood got spilled Shit got greasy, good men got killed Somehow I kept my head down, kept moving A lot had to be shown, it had to be proven And I'm still alive today So don't test me in no type of way You may catch me in the street rolling dolo Or on the beach in some Ralph Lauren Polo Or in the next booth over in the hottest club Or at some hell of a spa getting my feet rubbed (That nigga plays a cop) Broke nigga, don't speak Seventeen years, 200k a week Nigga, you on the bus, while I'm whipping a fleet If you can't add money, you ain't from the street