Ice-t The 7th (featuring Marc Live Ras Kass Tash (tha Liks)) Lyrics

The 7th (featuring Marc Live Ras Kass Tash (tha Liks)) Lyrics

(Ant Banks)



This is Ant Banks, and it's hella motherfuckin' deadly sins



But don't ever fuck with the seventh bitch







(Intro: Ras Kass)



Yeah, seventh, uh-huh, first things first man you're messin' with the worst



One, come on, come on, one







(Chorus: Marc Live)



Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness



Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady



Run son the hour has come, touch ya



Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme



we walk up and buck ya



Stuck ya in the head, rush ya



Trife niggas knife you, seven venoms fight you



Your life's through, fuckin' with the wrong click - kapow!!



From the crackhouse, niggas quick to blow your back out







(Marc Live)



Enough talk, niggas talk too much, let's set it



Time to splash bitch niggas, gun fights, paramedics



Call my regiment up at midnight, tape on a flash light



Youn claim you want beef, it's too tough, called your bluff



Shot you at such close range, blew out your eardrum



Caught you with my mack, blast your cage our your back



Yo, the nigga stepped up and got bucked by my ninja's



Casualty after casualty all up in ya



Ya not a street vet yet bitch, just a beginner



My niggas eat punk like your crew for dinner



Rock ya in broad daylight to make the wrist-double



Hit ya then lower my gun and watch ya chest bubble



Step up, feel the Teflon, black talent



Rip through your vest, hit your chest, lose your balance



You never had no drama with the real, now ya want it?



My skill got you haunted, my ski-mask got ???







(Marc Live)



Aiyyo blackout, my whole click we blastout



The wrong move, show improve you assed out



Venom it, warn the niggas, treacherous



Squeeze automatic, quick to bust fuck with us



Yo the worst niggas, work the bitch to double figures



In new sixes, hennessey with dark mixes



The richest, fuck around, you won't fix it



Toke, heavy metal, settle shit, rebel shit



Fuck a cop, why not, we last niggas on your block



Last standin', coked up, we fucked up



Twenty g's, rope 'em up, you in the trunk - Lex Coupe



I'll leave a nigga with cement boots



Now we off lootin', hold me down, yo I'll start shootin'



in ya double lefts and tell the rest an'



Marc Li-ive, fuck the pad, bust his ass



and slide my fuckin' heat in the stash







(Chorus: Marc Live)



Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness



Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady



Run son the hour has come, touch ya



Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme



we walk up and buck ya



Stuck ya in the head, rush ya



Trife niggas knife you, seven venoms fight you



Your life's through, fuckin' with the wrong click - kapow!!



From the crackhouse, niggas quick to blow your back out







(Ras Kass)



She musta kicked off like special teams



I walk rare from a muchy bled nigga all lookin' like Grenedine



Murder scene, three to the head, three to the sline



We tied that motherfuckin' number like Kareem



It seems that I used to wonder why niggas don't give a fuck



within 2G - niggas is just buck



From hip-hoppers to gangsta's, sportin' stompers at yompers



The mirror has two faces in this room is not proper



So we religiously pray for peace and pack one



I walk softly, carry a big dick



these family jewels is my most important riches



but I still want my liquor, my sorry-ass friends and my bitch



And nigga this me, I only see green like a Marine



Support Calvin Klein jeans, fed a bitch from the Phillipines



with a immoral nose ring (masterbatin' with a magazine!!)



Yeah, I'm acid 9 and half the time undercover



Fuck you, your lesbain lover and your mother with the same brother



The blade runner, my games' tight



I could talk the Virgin Mary outta panties the same night







(Castrophe)



And that's the seventh deadly sin as the terror begins



Me and my friends came to rob ya for your props and your ends



Tuck it in, my niggas want, whatever's costin'



The rings plus the watch, plus thst chain from the slossin'



Son, that's why I go in and shit stop



Last night my nigga Ice-T had to pop a cop



I write the chop-chop lyrics, tryin' not to scratch the detail



I put 'em through the system, slang 'em out at full retail



It's thirty g's for the title and the ki's



Throw in the extra three and take the tyres and the D's



Nigga please, this is lik-wit and I'm the Alki



At three months from now you're gonna read all about me



One cause I smoke 'em, two cause I'm wealthy



Three because I rapped on my nigga Ice's LP



It's Castrophe, lik-wit fam, lik-wit crew



West Coast is in the house nigga, what you wanna do?







(Chorus: Marc Live)



Yo, yo, yo motherfuckers can't fuck with this, realness



Seventh sin deadly, raise the key to rock steady



Run son the hour has come, touch ya



Remember this, real niggas don't rhyme



we walk up and buck ya



Stuck ya in the head, rush ya



Trife niggas knife you, seven venoms fight you



Your life's through, fuckin' with the wrong click - kapow!!



From the crackhouse, niggas quick to blow your back out







(Outro: Marc Live)



Yeah, seventh deadly sin bitch



Ice-T, Marc Li-ive, Ras Kass, Castrophe...