Jackin' For Beats

Album: Kill At Will (1990)
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  • Wait a minute, hold on, get your ass up
    Whassup nigga?
    Get over there shit
    Ya lil punk ass nigga
    C'mere, c'mere, c'mere boy
    God damnit you stop that shit now
    Take him to jail and get him the hell from in front of this house
    Now wait a minute, wait a minute, hey man
    Whassup?
    Wait a minute?
    There are police, go!

    Give me that beat fool, it's a full time jack move
    Chilly Chill, yo homie mack the track move
    And I'll jack any Tom, Dick and Hank
    That's the name of the suckers I done ganked
    I get away from a copper
    Drop a dime, I'll break you off somethin' proper
    With the L-E-N-C-H-M-O-B
    T-Bone and that's J.D.
    And here's how we'll greet ya
    Stop fool, come off that beat ya
    Feel dumb cause you're caught in the dark
    (Ya lil' nuttin' ass mark)
    Raise up, cause you cant' have it back
    You said "I ain't never got gaffled like that"
    Off the end of the gat you choke
    Short Dog's in the house "Whattup loc?"
    Nuttin' but a come up
    Gimme that bass, and don't try to run up
    Cause you'll get banked somethin' sweet
    Ice Cube and the Lench Mob, is jackin' for beats

    Huh, and even if you're down with my crew
    Yo Chuck man, I dodn't understand this man
    You got to slow down*
    I jack them too
    And then we'll freak it
    Kick that bass, and look what we did
    Fade the grade, played, and made a few mil
    And I keep stealin
    Ice Cube'll make it funk
    But right about now let's get up in the hump
    But I don't party and shake my butt
    I leave that to the brothers with the funny haircurs
    And it'll drive you nuts
    Steal your beat, and give it that gangsta touch
    Like jackin' at night
    Say hi to the three fifty-seven I'm packin'
    And it sounds so sweet
    Ice Cube and the Lench Mob, is jackin' for beats

    Ice Cube, will take a funky beat and reshape it
    Locate a dope break, and then I break it
    And give it that gangsta lean
    Dead in your face as I turn up the bass
    I make punk suckers run and duck because
    I don't try to hide cause you know that I love to
    Jack a fool for his beat and then I'm Audi
    So when I come to your town don't crowd me
    'Cause I know, you're gonna wanna kick it with me
    But I know, none of y'all can get with me
    So you think you're protected
    Well you are til you put a funky beat on a record
    Then I have to show and prove and use your groove
    'Cause suckers can't fade the Cube
    And if I jack you and you keep comin'
    I'll have you marks a 100 Miles and Running!

    Stop stop stop stop stop!
    Surprise, niggaz Writer/s: Al Nichol, Allen Williams, Anthony Wheaton, Derrick Baker, Erick Sermon, Garry Shider, George Clinton, Jr., Gregory Jacobs, Howard Kaylan, Jim Pons, John Barbata, Mark Volman, O'Shea Jackson, Parrish Joseph Smith, Roger Troutman, Teren Jones, Walter Morri
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, COHEN AND COHEN, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, THE MUSIC GOES ROUND, Universal Music Publishing Group, Word Collections Publishing
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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