| Lyrics: | *(two dope fiends talking)*
(whistle)
Hahahaha.
*Eh, eh, eh, yo mama got
a long ass throat, when she drink milk, by the
time it get to her stomach it's spoiled...
ahaha!!*
*Where you get that cream from man??*
*The Ice Cream Man, man, that nigga
ain't no mutha fuckin joke.*
*Hold on, hold on, close the blinds, cuz, cuz the neighbors
are lookin.*
*What?? Nigga lets get busy man, I'm ready to hit this big shit man, you
know what I'm sayin, this is big, big....*
*Get that kid outta
here!!*
*Whoa!! The kids!! Man get the kids outta here.*
*Close the door, cuz they
gonna tell on us.*
*Eh I'm blazin this up fo tha Ice Cream Man nigga!!*
Uh, uh,
uh,
yeah.
Chorus *(Yukmouth)* x2
It's the Ice Cream Man,
BITCH don't you
hear the music??
(Dope king, dope king.)
I got the shit fiends holla if you wanna use
it!!
Verse 1 *(Yukmouth)*
This shit is to be to let go,
so welcome to the
ghetto,
got no love from my moms an pops had to creep an caulk heat wit my
fellows,
niggaz from the Big O,
always down to scuffle,
had the hustle from the get
go,
an didn't no.... body, give a fuck about Jerold,
not when I had hella dirt an lint in my
dried up ass curl,
hit the dice game,
hurled off the night train,
so hang that
four-fifth at my brain,
if you want me to do the right thang,
ever since my eyes open,
I
musta really sell dope in,
the 6-9 Village of East Oakland,
hopin,
my dad would come
back,
but that fool vamp,
now my mama spend the checks on woozy's an the food
stamps,
that's why my ass was pumpin gas,
an shootin craps,
so I |
