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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
2Pac
Vocals
Ice Cube
Vocals
Ice T
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ice T
Songwriter
Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin
Songwriter
Eddie Marion
Songwriter
Henderson Thigpen
Songwriter
James Banks
Songwriter
O'Shea Jackson
Songwriter
Tupac Amaru Shakur
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin
Producer
2Pac
Co-Producer
Bob Morse
Mixing Engineer
Darrin Harris
Recording Engineer
Mike Calderon
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
Ice Cube's in the motherfuckin' house
The **** you love to hate
Ice Cube's in the motherfuckin' house
The **** you love to hate
Ice Cube, Ice Cube, Ice Cube, Ice Cube
Cube's in the motherfuckin' house
Yo, here comes the **** with the ruff
The terror, the paranoid
Gots to get the boys
Can't sit still 'cause I feel
Like a headbanger
See I gotta gang-up shit
Styles, guns, my Uzi weighs a motherfuckin' ton
Buckin' down one, buckin' down two
Buckin' down your crew
Motherfuck you
Pigs wear blue
I wear black
Nothing but black
Guns got them, it's a brand new payback
Fuck, Pat Sajack never did nothing for a ****
On the trigger, the zigga, the zag, the nickel
The back, the ****, the sack
The .44 mag got you runnin' like a fag
So, keep yo' motherfuckin' jokes
'Cause I'm that **** with a fresh pair of locs
No yokes, but smokes
Crackers and them dirty mackers friends aren't jackers
Get you for your drawers
Young **** out to kill for the cause
Yeah
Ice-T's in the motherfuckin' house
Ice-T's in the motherfuckin' house
Ice-T's in the motherfuckin' house
Ice-T's in the motherfuckin' house
Ice-T's in the motherfuckin' house
O to the motherfucking G, I break crazy
A lot of **** hate me
But they can't fade me
Stop me, block me, cops wanna Glock me
But the punk motherfuckin' pigs can't stop me
Uh, am I a G, I got proof
Banged in my youth, keep **** on the roof
With a scope, dope, Cube keep the rope
2Pac will string a **** up
If the mob don't
So, what's up, punk?
You want what I got?
Step to me wrong, fuck around and get shot
Yo mom's cryin', fuck her, buster
Bitch talks crazy to me, and I'll dust her
Pac's got the LP fat track
On hit, laid by the motherfucking Bobcat
Ninety-three suckers want me to go out
Throw the ho out
Bitch, motherfucker, I'm rich
2Pac's in the motherfuckin' house
2Pac's in the motherfuckin' house
2Pac's in the motherfuckin' house
Now they after me
Why?
'Cause a ****'s Black
Spittin' facts and ain't afraid to pull the trigger back
Let them come step to a real motherfucker
Boom, boom, momma ain't raised no suckers
Dan Quayle, don't you know you need your ass kicked?
Where was you when it was **** in the caskets?
Motherfuckin' rednecks all the same
Fear a real **** if he ain't balled and chained
That's why we burn shit and wreck
'Cause the punk police ain't learned shit yet
You motherfuckers gonna pay the price
Can't make a Black life, don't take a Black life
It's on for the next real **** fall dead, dread
Jheri curl, process, or bald head
Be prepared for the smoke to bust
What **** need to do is start loccin' up
United we stand
Divided we fall
They can shoot one ****, but they can't take us all
Let's get along with the Mexicans
And we can all have peace on the sets again
Imagine that if it took place, ha, ha, ha
Keepin' the smiles on they white face
I ain't racist, but let's trade places
Trace the hate and then face it
One **** teach two ****
Three teach four ****
And them **** teach more ****
And when we blast, that'll be the biggest blast you've heard
And them is my last wordz
Written by: 2Pac, Bobby "Bobcat" Ervin, Ice Cube, Ice-T