Spice 1 - 1990-Sick (k** 'Em All) lyrics

Artist: Spice-1 f/ MC Eiht Album: 1990-Sick Song: 1990-Sick (k** 'Em All) Chorus: k** em all (4X) Cause everybody dyin on this motherf**in album k** em all (4X) Don't kick up in the dirt when I'm puttin in work k** em all (4X) Cause everybody dyin on this motherf**in album [Spice 1] I murda like this (this) I murda like that (that) Pull an AK-47 up out my motherf**in gangsta hat Professional Columbian Necktie, barbwire Strangler, over k**a, dead f**in body hanga Peepin out the window with an A.K., pullin up on these copper Helicoptas, squad cars, swat teams with choppers They tellin me, "n***a, get the f** out before ya die If you surrender, we'll make sure that you quickly fry" Should I kick open the door and go to war Or should I slit my throat Leave a pipe bomb and a f** you note Hallucinations of seein lynched bodies burnin And all the po-po had faces like Mark Fuhrman Tear gas through my gla** window pane They wanna put me back up in the nut house again But I'm not goin back and take my prozac They can keep the straight jacket And leave a straight motherf**in jack A straight motherf**in jack A straight motherf**in jack Chorus (Get the hell off my dick, I'm 1990-sick) (1990-sick) *repeat 4X* [Spice 1] n***a's to pull the lynch, yayo case and stick Marcia Clark screamin out murda, jumpin on OJ's dick Motherf**ers still sufferin and healin Some high tech knowledga white boys blew up the f**in fed buildin Crazy n***as still bangin and slangin crack To the d**h, when the game put em up on they back Motherf**ers catchin AIDS, from shootin hop And phony n***as still get sprayed up on the block And I ain't changed much, hell I'm still smokin four or five motherf**in choppers before it's twelve Motherf**ers think they know me, but they don't know I'm sellin first cla** tickets to the murda show Don't wanna rap about no n***a, let's get it on Bustin domes, buck shots through your rib bone So all you n***as up in the magazines talkin sh** Get off my dick, I'm 1990-sick Chorus [MC Eiht] 1990-sick, I grasp my dick The lunatic quick to grab my tech Put slugs up in your neck Compton is the city where I come from Desert Eagle packin dum ditty ditty dum I won't just smoke you I be terrifyin horrifyin gyeah I'mma choke you The k**a n***as on hop We tear up your spot, Eiht, Spice, and my f**in n***a Pac Don't cross my path, no cla** I be like sh** in your motherf**in a** Bullets I spit at you, your hood I slid through Evil n***as tryin to get rid of you No witnesses so don't ask no questions Flee the scene, one-time'll be arrestin k**a n***as don't play that It's Compton on no like your dome we stompin But in that gang affiliation sh** goes pop, we won't stop Uhhh, in 1990-sick Chorus: repeat 2X (Get the hell off my dick, I'm 1990-sick) (1990-sick) *repeat 4X*