On a high speed chase they recognize my plates Wanted for a 187 in three states Got my glock cock, mind is ill mental Blastin' at one time through my back window, shit Sick individual, murder was my ritual Mashin' in a hard top four, all original Bout a dozen of cops all behind me Mad as fuck cause Ice Cube is my crimey Like a missile launch led from my pistol Jumpin' hills like the streets of San Francisco Hard tryin' to stump him, reload my dumper Hit the ground, lost my hubcaps and my back bumper A hundred and ten, Westbound on the freeway Bo guardin' traffic cause I do shit the G way Hard to survive, lit up a 45 No alive instead Mack 10 wanted dead
And it's on, stick to the fire, loop get me high Drop the four in low, as I smoke the back tires Peddle to the floor in a bucket low low One time trailin', hittin' corners, fish tailin' I continue to cap as the gap starts to pull again Mashin' through Fullerton, a all points bulletin Wigs get pilled, nigga, runnin' from the kill Bugs flyin' into my grill and windshield Never see trial, say fck tryin' to stretch me Mack 10 a fuckin' dead man if they catch me Stompin' through red lights, no headlights on my vehicle 5150 is my penal code I empty the clips when I carry'em, aimin' to bury'em Nigga fresh out the sanitarium LAPD tryin' to blow off my beanie Want the whole world to see me Put my face on TV, for real
Fuck this shit, if they catch me I'ma goner Runnin' for my life, I continue to hit corners With my heat, 50 rounds deep Nigga, goin' down, holdin' trial in the street, fuck it If it's on like that It's about who's nuts is fat And who's straightest with they gat, for real That's how it be, livin' like a G It's better them than me facin' strike number three Heel no, I can't fuck with the lock down Mack 10'll grab the Mack 10 And set the glock down and I'm runnin' Freeze was my order, cappin' at they ass
Compositores: O'shea Jackson (Ice Cube), Dedrick D'mon Rolison ECAD: Obra #17046320