[Verse 1] Ten years ago I used to listen to rappers flow Talkin' bout the way They rocked the mic at the disco I liked how that sh** was goin' down Dreamt about ripping the mic with my own sound So I tried to write rhymes Something like them, my boys said "That ain't you Ice That sh** sounds like them." So I sat back, thought up a new track Didn't fantasize, kicked the pure Facts. Motherf**ers got scared Cause they was unprepared Who would tell it how it really was? Who dared? A motherf**er from the West Coast L.A. South Central fool Where the Crips and the Bloods play When I wrote about parties It didn't fit Six in the Morning That was the real sh** [Hook] O.G. Original Gangster [Verse 2] When I wrote about parties Someone always died When I tried to write happy Yo I knew I lied, I lived a life of crime Why play ya blind? A simple look And anyone with two cents Would know I'm A hardcore player from the streets Rapping bout hardcore topics Over hardcore drum beats A little different Than the average though Jet you through the fast lane Drop ya on d**h row Cause anybody who's been there Knows that life ain't so lovely On the blood-soaked fast track That invincible sh** don't work Throw ya in a joint You'll be coming out feet first So I blast the mic with my style Sometimes I'm ill And other times buck wild But the science is always there I'd be a true s**er If I acted like I didn't care I rap for brothers just like myself Dazed by the game In a quest for extreme wealth But I kick it to you hard and real One wrong move, and you caps peeled I ain't no super hero I ain't no marvel comic But when it comes to game I'm atomic At dropping it straight Point blank and untwisted No imagination needed, cause I lived it This ain't no f**ing joke This sh** is real to me I'm Ice-T, O.G
[Hook} [Verse 3] Two weeks ago I was out at the disco Two brothers stepped up to me And said "Hey yo, Ice We don't think you're down What set ya claiming?" E drew the Glock, yo my set's aiming! Dumb motherf**er Try to roll on me, please! I'm protected by a thousand emcees And hoodlums and hustlers And bangers with jheri curls We won't even count the girls Cause they got my back And I got theirs too Fight for the streets When I'm on Oprah or Donahue They try to sweat a n***a But they just didn't figure That my wit's as quick as a hair trigger "He's not your everyday-type Prankster." I'm Ice-T, the original gangster [Hook] [Verse 4] So step to me If you think that you're ready to Got on your bullet proof? Well mine's going right thru This ain't no game to me It's hollow fame to me Without respect from streets So I don't claim be The hardest motherf**er on earth Catch me slipping, I can't even get worked But I don't slip that often There's a coffin Waiting for the brother Who comes off soft when The real f**ing sh** goes down Take a look around All them pussies can be found They talk a mean fight But fight like hoes I'm from South Central, fool Where everything goes Snatch you out your car so fast You'll get whiplash Numbers on your roof top For when the copters pa** Gang bangers don't carry no switch blades Every kid's got a Tec 9 or a Hand grenade Thirty-seven k**ed Last week in a crack war Hostages tied up And shot in a liquor store Nobody gives a f** "The children have to go to school." Well, moms, good luck Cause the sh**'s f**ed up bad I use my pad and pen And my lyrics break out mad I try to write about fun And the good times But the pen yanks away and explodes And destroys the rhyme Maybe it's just cause of where I'm from L.A. that was a shotgun! [Hook]