Spittin' Pollaseeds

Ice Cube:

Fuck a ghost rider

Sittin in the back, of the studio

Tryin to write a nigga rap

It's the muppet show, most niggas need A&R(A&R)

To tell them how to fuck a hoe

Ice Cube, true MC, write everything I say, even back in the day

Imma spit it, how I feel it, fuck a gimmick

You can keep your catchy lines, imma 'bout to write a rhyme

If you got backpack, tryin act black

Think you know the culture, you'z a fuckin vulture

You never a approached the mic

You dress like a dike, sayin what you don't like

Who deserves five mics, who deserves two

But the nigga wit two still can serve you

This West Coast, flow is different in the East

But in ain't no different in the streets

Chorus:

I'm spittin pollaseeds

I crack'em one by one cause I dont want to be greedy

Cause the salt might make it so

I'm spittin pollaseeds

I crack'em one by one cause I dont want to be greedy

Cause, these niggas is salty

Will make you choke ohh oh

You miggas got me fucked up

Ice Cube:

I'm spittin pollaseeds on the portch, with the torch

In case these niggas come around to see the porche

When I branish, motherfuckers vanish

They don't understand like a nigga speak in spanish

No comprende, me no speak no englehh

Here a fuck(smack)Now yo ass feelin' tingle

Now you doin shit like Darrel Stingleeh

Dont get stung by the motherfuckin sting ray

Keep it movin niggas, y'all better king me

Put your rap careers up on e-bay

Crazy toons is the motherfuckin dj

Baby drop to your knees, he deserves a BJ

I got a big brother, nicknamed CJ

When you see him in the hood take it eazy

If you a breezehh, take him to the heezehh

Do him like Halley Barry did Michael Eleehh

Chorus

WC:

I ain't playin

I got pulled over by the police

And I had some pollaseeds in my hand

The police pulled me over and said

Twenty-Seventeen, we got a young black nigga over here

Age eighteen, look like he thirty-five

Look like he drinkin a henesee, and smoke every night

I need back up

Nigga might have a twenty-two with duck tape on the handle

Wit the twista

Hit ya, Its the chippa

Pistol grip, scip scippa, ready to finger rear view mirror

Ready to bust wit my bandanna bumpin oldies

Cube, throw me the line like golden the Kobe

So I can bust a cripwalk on these niggas

Yellow tape, bark these niggas, fuck all these salty niggas

They can't hold our shit

Gangsta rap ain't dead, motherfuckers just stole our shit

All y'all niggas now its alamoni

All y'all did is switch yo name and ate a style up like raveolli

Own your club raps and pisses

Talk shit I'll knock your Comm-A-Dee glasses off ya face

Under the transmission nigga

From the West side, fuckin up the program

Wit the surplus, Highly hangin up the blow hand

Dub-zizzala

Tippin on them drolics

And spiitin shells at you niggas like pollaseeds

Chrorus