Texty: Ice Cube. When Will They Shoot.

Verse One:

God damn another fucking payback wit' a twist
Them motherfuckers shot but the punks missed
Ice Cube is out gunned what is the outcome?
Will they do me like Malcolm?
Cuz I bust styles new styles standing. . .
Strong. . . while others run a hundred miles
But I never run never will
Deal wit' the devil wit' my mother fucking steel BOOM!
Media try to do me
But I was a Boy N the Hood before the movie, yeah
Call me nigga, bigger than a spook
But you the one that voted for Duke, motherfucker
White man is something I tried to study
But I got my hands bloody, yeah.
They say I can sing like a Jaybird
But nigga don't say the J-word.
I thought they was bugging. . .
Cuz to us Uncle Sam is Hitler without an oven
Burning our black skin
Buy my neighborhood - then push the crack in
Doing us wrong from the first day
And don't understand why a nigga got an AK.
Calling me an African-American
like everything is fair again, shit
Devil you got to get the shit right I'm black
Blacker than a trillion midnights
"Don't believe the Hype" was said in 88 by the great Chuck D
Now they're trying to fuck me . . .
{wit' no vaseline, just a match and a little bit of gasoline}
Its a great day for genocide
Thats the day all the niggas died
They killed JFK in '63
So what the fuck you think they'll do to me?
But I'm the O.G. and I bust back, boom boom
Bust back, boom boom,
Peel a cap, BOOM BOOM!
Gimme room in the fire of the sun
Hear the mack come
Hear the black come
Watch Jack run
Motherfuckers can't gank me
Fuck a devil, fuck a rebel, and a yankee
Overrun and put the Presidency
After needin that, I'm down wit' O.P.P.
I met Farrakhan and had dinner
And you ask if I'm a five-percenter, well. . .
No, but I go where the brothas go
Down with Compton Mosque, Number 54
Made a little dough, still got a sister on my elbow
Did Ice Cube sell out? You say "hell no!"
A black woman is my manager, not in the kitchen,
So could you please stop bitchin'?


Verse Two:

{gun shots}

You missed and didn't hit the Lench Mob either
[Guerillas in the Mist] Without Jungle Fever
But I got the fever for the flava of a cracker, not a Pringle
Bust a single, here's my new jingle
The KKK has got three-piece suits
Using niggas like turkey shoots
My motto is "treat 'em like a prostitute."
If I say no violence devil, you won't respect mine,
Fuck the dumb shit and get my Tek-9.
And if they approach us
A-ight, a-ight - I bury those cockroaches.
And if you can't deal wit' my "Kill at Will"
Here's a new gift to get
Try my "Death Certificate".
Amerikkka's Most, Amerikkka's burnt - its like toast
Like Jordan I'm going coast to coast.
Dribbling the funk
Here comes the nigga wit' the mother fucking monster dunk
Get off me punk
{You better eat your Wheaties}
Darryl Gates got the studio surrounded
Cuz he don't like the niggas that I'm down wit'
Mother fucker wanna do us
Cuz I like Nat, Huey, Malcolm, and Louis.
Most got done by a black man's bullet
Give a trigga to a nigga and watch him pull it.
Negro assassin,
I'ma dig a ditch, bitch, and throw your ass in
When they shoot, no, it won't be a cracker
They use somebody much blacker
What I do?
I call up the Geto Boy crew
Cuz my mind's playing tricks on me too.
Never die, surround my crib
makin' sure nobody creep when I sleep
Keep a 9 millimeter in my Jeep - PEEP!
When I roll, I gots to roll deep.
Ain't going out cheap
Make the Mad Circle on Cypress Hill cuz its so steep.
They'll never get me
They'll never hit me
Mother fuck that shit J-Dee.
Now I relax
Grab the St. Ides brew so I can max.
Sitting on the window cuz its so fucking hot,
And then I heard a shot -
Boom