Ice T - 409 Lyrics

It's time to start the party if ya'll don't mindMe and E clean our Adidas with 409He rocks the highs, I dog the bassYa wanna hear us rock? Here's a taste!Every day I make a sandwich with ham and cheeseUse miracle whip, I don't like mayonnaiseI eat a can of beans, good for my heartAbout 1 PM, I always...Far from me to bite another's rhymeThey're just too easy to write, I do 'em two at a timeLike doggin' the wax and ya don't quitAnd if you didn't like that then suck my...Dictations how I write my rapsCold maxin' with two freaks upon my lapChillin' on the phone, bookin' more def showsAnd if the freaks get illy, I smack the...Whole days of my life are spent inside my bedJust maxin' and relaxin' like I'm at club medYa say you like this record, you think it's fun?Party people get stupid, we just begun!(Break)You're get, get, gettin' real stupidAs the beat hits your body (get ill)You ain't dumb, you paid your dollars to party (go off)The girl you're dancin' with has got great hips (bug out)Go on, homeboy, and grab her...Tape recorder, turn up the bassNo time to waste, just dog the placeR-R-R-Rocket like a missile in spaceEvil E keeps his 1200s in an anvil caseWe fly T.W.A., Pan Am, P.S.ATo places close to home, far awayL.A., New York, Detroit, MiamiIf I see a girl and like her then I let her see my...Jam rockin's how I got my fameIce capital T, Evil E's his nameIf you can't see who's rockin' you must be blindYou better clean your gazelles with some 409!Go, Ice, get busyGo, Ice, get busyGo, Evil, get busyGo, Evil, get busyTurn up your stereo, equalize trebleBass be kickin' stupid hard as metalOn the mic tonight, you're right, your rhyme opponentM.C. Ice T just microphonin'33 and 1/3 revolutions per minuteThis record is def because my heart is in itVocals laid by the Ice, tempos tight and preciseSpecial effects will be created by an editor's spliceThe funk is in it, ya dig it, so stop that frontin'Bust a move to my groove, work your body, do somethin'No way in the world that you can deny my methodAs my record rotates, my words get more impressiveI'm an M.C., Evil's my DJOn Sire Records not M.C.AC.B.S., Capitol, cause they move too slowNow Sire/Warner Bros. (clocks all the dough)As the record revolves money's gettin' madeA.S.C.A.P. pays me every time it's playedI chill in def leathers pure silks and suedeAnd the gold around my neck will never fadeDown with my Syndicate organized rhymeKickin' def tempos that I designAnd if you can't hear 'em, that's such a crimeYou better wash your dirty ears with some 409I always rhyme elite, stay on beatI travel in a posse when I walk the streetI loved to say my rhymes when I used to maxNow I don't speak much, I save my words for waxI just wanna make a little point in this songWith a little nonsense we can all get alongAnd on and on till the break'a break of dawnThis jam will never play out because the groove's too strongGuys grab a girl, girls grab a guyIf a guy wants a guy (please take it outside)I wanna make ya enjoy yourselfOn the mic tonight (Ice T!) Who else?Evil's on the cuts, Henry Gee's shot gunIslam's my producer, Bambatta's sonBronx Style Bob's cold watchin' my backMelle Mel's just layin' for some punks to act wackGrandmaster Caz and Donald DScott La Rock, Red Alert, Chuck Chill OutIf you're down with my crew, you will be fineBut if you ill we'll get dirty, bring your 409!(Break)409