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Correct We Had To Tear This Mothafucka Up Lyrics
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Artists: I
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Ice Cube
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Correct We Had To Tear This Mothafucka Up
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Intro: (*numerous men speaking*) (Peace quiet and good order will be maintained in our city to the best of our ability. Riots melees and disturbances of the peace are against the interests of all our people and therefore cannot be permitted) (The jury found that they were all not guilty not guilty....) (We've been told that all along Crenshaw Boulevard that there's a series of fires. A lot of looting is going on. A disaster area obviously) (The jury found that they were all not guilty, not guilty...) Make it rough (A lot of activity continues here in this....) Make it rough (We have sporadic fires throughout the city of Los Angeles) Verse 1: Not guilty the filthy devils tried ta kill me When the news get to the hood then niggas will be hotter than cayenne pepper, cuss, bust Kickin up dust is a must I can't trust a cracker in a blue uniform Stick a nigga like a unicorn Vaugn, wicked, Lawrence Powell, foul Cut his fuckin throat and I smile Go to Simi Valley and surely somebody knows the address of the jury Pay a little visit, "Who is it?" (Who is Ice Cube?) "Can I talk to the grand wizard?" then boom Make him eat the barrel, modern day feral Now he's zipped up like leather tuscadero Pretty soon we'll catch Sergeant Coon Shoot him in the face, run up in him witta broom Stick prick, devils ain't shit Introduce his ass to the AK40 dick Two dazed niggas layin in the cut To get some respect we had to tear this muthafucka up Make it rough Verse 2: I gotta Mac10 for Officer Wynd Damn, his devil ass need to be shipped back to Kansas in a casket, crew cut faggot Now he ain't nothin but food for the maggots Lunch, punch, Hawaiin lyin Niggas ain't buyin ya story bore me Taerin up shit with fire, shooters, looters Now I got a lap-top computer I told you all what happened and you heard it, read it but all you could call me was anti-Semitic Regret it-nope, said it-yep Listen to my big black boots as I step Niggas had to break you off somethin, give Bush a push But your National Guard ain't hard You had to get Rodney to stop me cos you know what? We woulda teared this muthafucka up Huh, make it rough! Huh Muggs, make it rough! Verse 3: It's on, gone with the wind and I know white men can't dunk Now I'm stealin blunts And it came from Betty Crocker, overweight and blacker Don't fuck with the black-owned stores but hit the Foot Lockers Steal, muthafuck Fire Marshall Bill Oh what the hell, throw the cocktail I smelt smoke, got the fuck out, Ice Cube lucked out My nigga had his truck out, didn't get stuck out In front of that store with the Nikes and Adidas Oh Jesus, I ???? Surplus got the heaters Meet us so we can get the 9's and the what-nots Got the Mossberg with the double eyed buckshot Ready for Darryl and like Beretta wouldn't say Keep your eye on the barrel, a sparrow Don't do the crime if you can't do the time But I'm rollin so that's a fucked up slogan The Hogan's Heroes spotted the gorilla by the Sizzler Hittin up police killer The super duper nigga that'll buck We had to tear this muthafucka up so what the fuck!?! Huh, make it rough! Yo Muggs, make it rough Huh, make it rough Enough Outro: (*newsreader*) (Not Guilty verdicts for Stacey Coon, Lawrence Powell, Timothy Wynd and Theodore Vaugsinio, the four officers accused of beating motorist Rodney King
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