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ice – t – mixed up lyrics

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(feat. slj)

[intro: ice-t talking]
oh! yeah, nineteen ninety three
ice motherf-cking t in the place, you know what i’m saying?
cold lounging with my n-gg- slj from wrecked dialect
you know what i mean? (yeah!!) melt microphone screams
have to turn this motherf-cker out, you know what i’m saying?

[slj] yep, digging a profile
[ice] yeah, check the technique wh-r-, ha ha, i’ma do this
[slj] brave guts!!

[verse 1: ice-t]
one, two, three, it’s time to flip with the o.g. gangster
banger, underground slanger of the murderous rhymes your moms hates
huh! mother f-ck the k.k.k. and darrel gates
give me the microphone now, godd-mn it, so i can blow it
throw it, rip it, wreck it, pimp it, wh-r- it (yeah!!)
i’m about to take the f-ck up, with this bullsh-t
full clips spray from the hands of this convict
i’m not no nice n-gg-, i’m known not to smile at no b-tch
how to think; wh-r-s be thinking about getting rich!
i love these wh-r-s like money
back on the streets, on a track the iceberg cheque plenty (word!!)
i got a bullet with your name on it, you want it?
knock your grill, i’ll fill it with golden ponant
oh! my god, these n-gg-z hard, call the bomb squad
too late, i detonate, i beliderate three states, gone!! (boom!!)
i play russian roulette all alone
you got me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!
you got me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!!

[verse 2: slj]
how many emcees do i have to rot? (rot!!)
how many suckers do i have to drop? (drop!!)
how many tampers do i have to plot? (plot!!)
count them, how many rounds are in the glock? (glock!!)
n-gg-z wanna test me, stress me
well, they can’t handle this sh-t that kick, and that’s it
cause they can’t catch the feat, that comes with the cleat
or an a.k. that i shot last week
cause n-gg-z on the ave, don’t really know the half
of my sh-t, so watch if, you might get stabbed
by the rap plaque, who was trying to get paid
in this tray, and any n-gg- stepped gets sprayed
uhh!! by the verbal-lyrical, mystical, spirit-ual
sucker play me wrong, now watch me get physical
i can’t give a f-ck about the punk -ss cops
i got a glock with the infrared dot on it’s knot (pop!!)

[chorus:]
[slj] don’t get me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!
[ice] don’t get him mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!!
[ice] don’t get me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!!!
[slj] ice, get on the mic and buck buck!

[verse 3: ice-t]
i fall in hate the way motherf-ckers fall in love
i blew it in the sky as up above
but i’m in the gang no more, slang ‘kane no more
step to me wrong and your jaw meets a cobra (huh!!)
i don’t give a f-ck about n-body
listen, if you like me, i love you, you hate me
i’m dissing them; suckers, b-tches, busters, wh-r-s
can catch a bozack chased by a head crack
i love the duckings throughout these ghetto alleys by myself
dressed in black so i’m stealth
keep by glock beside me, ski-mask to hide me
and if i’m out to kill then now the -ssaults get by me (yeah!!)
n-gg-z wanna flip but i’m the wrong male
with the wrong hands, i thought you’re in fact, the young shorts foreman
let’s go back to the old sh-t, old style
ice motherf-cking t on the mic buckwild (yeah!!)

[chorus:]
[slj] don’t get me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!
[ice] you got me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!!
[ice] you got me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!!
[slj] slj, get on the mic and destruct!! (yeah!!)

[verse 4: slj]
now watch me, grip up, zip up, split off suckers’ heads
who thought that i was soft (huh!!) cause it’s ninety three
it’s time for me, to get a fat cheque, ain’t that right boss? (yep!!)
cause this game is strange, it’s just may change back to chains
caressing ankles back to brains
cause it’s backdoor, once again to the end
at this time, you might know whose your friends
so watch your back, and the sounds of the clack
like other fool just succ-mbs to, who carries a gat (ping!!)
who’s scheming, fiending, remember he’s a demon
looking for the brothers who be straight disagreeing
cause if he haven’t heard, who tried to dis the iceberg
last year, this year, we still no fear
because we drop ammo, that n-gg-z couldn’t handle
and after this blunt we still beget another scandal (yeah!!)

[verse 5: ice-t]
check the hood, check the hood for some real gs
so many suckers, i need some n-gg-z to roll with me
to kick up some dust, drive-by and bust
i love god but it’s in glock! i f-cking trust
i got a f-cking souleaf in my d-mn brain
and the sh-t is dripping out, i’m d-mn near insane
i don’t wanted to, but i gotta, and i shot her, then i chopped her
then i packed her, then i stuffed her, then i rocked her (yeah!!)
the b-tch is so f-cking good anyway
snitched on my boys to the motherf-cking d-e-a
what’s up? – you wanna try to focus your sights on the mic
this n-gg- can flip scripts all night
yeah, i wreck sh-t nice, the microphone smokes like tri-ice
bang n-gg-, bang n-gg-, i’m a known gang figure
killed so many bodies, need to make my trunk bigger (huh!)
dig a shallow grave on the side of the freeway
yo, i don’t play and i’m ready to die today

[outro: ice-t]
don’t get me mixed up with a n-gg- that gives a f-ck!
don’t get us mixed up with the n-gg-z that give a f-ck!
don’t get us mixed up with some n-gg-z that give a f-ck!
don’t get us mixed up with some n-gg-z that give a f-ck!
yeaaaaahhhh!! – motherf-cker!!
the syndicate’s in the motherf-cking house!
word them up!



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