Cramp Your Style Lyrics by Ice-t

Cramp Your Style Lyrics


    (i cramp your style
    With a bullet and a smile) --> onyx

    [ verse 1 ]
    Ugh, niggas on the d-l casin me out
    Truckin my jewels, feelin for the tools
    When they come they gots to come correct
    Because they know i catch wreck
    A well-known wild street vet
    Step into the kill zone, baby, it's on
    I pack the twin nine-mills that'll lift your dome
    Chrome pump with double-eyed slots and such
    A fully-auto mac-dime that is sure to touch
    Ya, bust you with the desert eagle
    Street legal, move against my peole
    And the ice gets evil
    Hit you with the .44 smith & wes-
    Son, you're best to run cause my tec eats pests
    I got a glock with the laser, hot police taser
    Step in real close, i hit your throat with the razor
    You wanna live or die, it's your decision
    Talk shit, you're dissin, i got you in my night vision
    Brain fragments on the street released
    Another nigga fronts hard, another nigga deceased
    I got a h.k., a.k. and a m-16
    A 12-gauge street sweeper with the circular clip
    Quick to let projectiles fly, you die
    And watch your fat moms cry - bull's eye

    (i cramp your style
    With a bullet and a smile) --> onyx

    What you think all the guns is for?

    [ verse 2 ]
    What's up, niggas don't seem to hear
    Still lookin crazy, let me make this clear
    Fool, the ice ain't havin it
    And when i let loose lead, believe i'm accurate
    Fat scope on a 30???6
    Sawed-off double barrel and a pistol grip
    Pump on my lap at all times
    I fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimes
    Thompson center spittin .45 slugs
    Black mac-11, python .357
    Snub-nose .38 or .380
    Seventy automatic, full metal jackets
    Hollow points comin atcha fast
    You feel the slug before you hear the blast

    (i cramp your style
    With a bullet and a smile) --> onyx

    Muthafuckas frontin hard
    Lookin at niggas crazy and shit
    Make a nigga break
    Nigga don't want me to pull out

    [ verse 3 ]
    I don't like shootin but i do shoot straight
    Niggas i be rollin with will shoot up a wake
    Why you wanna step in the sights of a nigga
    Known hair trigger, the coroner delivers
    More cold bodies to the morgue each weekend
    One minute you bleed, the next minute you're leakin
    Best to listen close cause this ain't no boast
    And never forget that i leave you wet
    Bloody, sticky, holes in your dickey's
    Oh what a pity, lookin all shitty
    My winchester will get the best of ya
    Hand grenades will fade all the rest of ya
    I reach out and touch you with the parabellum
    You got a crew, you better tell em

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