Get your ice cream, ice cream
Not Ice-T, not Ice Cube, ice cream
Thangs, half thangs
QP's, zippers, whatever you need
Hard, soft, get your ice cream
Ice cream, Peruvian ice cream
Ice cream
[Yukmouth]
Well, it's the ice cream man, bitch, don't you hear the music
I got the shit, fiends holla at me when they use it
I got shit sold, I pimp those broke ass nymphos
Got 'em suckin' dick in Pintos
I guarantee it's not a soda rock
You could bring cash money, food stamps, or we can swap
Stolen goods for a fat ass dum dum
I sweep the fiends off they feet like a broom
I rush to the spot when school's up
The dope fiends'll see me, and then they pass the other fools up
Niggas jealous ‘cause I got good crackola
While they shit is power packed with baking soda
Hop on the bandwagon. Why not?
When I’m gone, niggas claim they got the same shit I got
It's because I'm, like, takin’ the money and the power
It’s the lick because I cook my shit from powder
With a little bit of cut in it
All you got is a couple of bucks, go ‘head and spend it
It's all good but money ain't all good
‘Cause a raw deal will get your ass sent to Vacaville
My vic don't have no bucks wit’ ‘em
That bring these unknown niggas claimin’ that it’s they peoples
But I don’t fuck wit’ ‘em
Get up and steal me hella stereo components
To snatch it up before these other niggas get up on it
Wanna be fine and dandy with that candy on your hooter
Shoot a fiend somethin’ for a sack of Buddha
I got the bomb, muthafucka, peep
Niggas jump on they feet when they hear the music in the streets
Yes you can, yes you can can, yes you can
Rush to the van, so you can catch the ice cream man
Bitch, don't you hear the music
[Dru Down]
Well, it's the Coca Cola man, bitch
Can't beat the feeling
Or the real thing, yeah, you know I got cream
So come on, a huddle, give me ten or twenty
Dollars, so I can give you rocks. Or do you want powder?
Whatever you get, I bet you it's the shit
Niggas who know I whip this shit to the fullest
It keeps the dope fiends comin’ and comin’, now they’re runnin’
Up to a nigga’s spot, it’s making me hot
I'm about to go sick, I mean, crazy with this shit
I'm grindin’, I'm slangin’ through the night
I'm watching tweakers tweak because they need a P-I-P-E, ugh
Get the fuck from in front of my spot
I’m ‘bout to open my window and unload my motherfuckin’ Glock
Blaow, damn, I see the Task jump out the van
Jackin’ niggas slangin’ on the corner, you punk ass rollers
That's why I'm in the house under with the cola
And some cash stacked to the top
I got my money counter and chop a fool who steps to get pop pop
No hesitation and no fear
My observation is to make a mill a year, yeah
And then maybe some daddy will let me date his daughter
Or would he want a square nigga? (Hi, may I take your order?)
But I'm not with $4.25 and you can keep that
Hand me a crack sack and watch me make a big gap
Nigga, I'ma ride long and super fat, jack
‘Cause I'm a dope dealer, a motherfuckin’ cream seller
People ask who I am
Tell ‘em the Cola Man
[Numskull]
I need to chop up some cream
The sun shinin’ bright as fuck
Knocks are blowin’ up my shit ‘cause they done missed the ice cream truck
Cut up a half and rush the post (Oh shit!)
Cops, they don't sweat me ‘cause I look like a school kid
But still I'm watching my knocks ‘cause they will gaffle
Pressin’ my luck slangin’ right by the Hill Castle
I got the cream and niggas are gettin’ jealous, but
I don't play that, I got my gat hidden in the cut
My bundles gettin’ off quick, shit
I got the blammer, takin’ knots from niggas with the Arm and Hammer
(Hey…ho) Come here, take this duck
Go serve they nigga love and bring my money up
I'm on alert when I work but they forever tryna get me
That’s why I got my bitch posted up wit’ me
(Ay, yo, yo, man, do you got a fat dub rock?)
Rise, that's what I got, I’m runnin’ the spot, because I advertise
And plus I got the humongo rocks, soda for blocks
Nigga, I got more knocks than Goldilocks
It's time to make my rounds, black
The cops are getting hopeful
I sense a jack so I get mobile
I got two popsicles and a cookie left
Shucks, and a buck that I’ma sell for nine bucks
‘Cause I don’t give no credit, and I mean none
You won't see that nigga again ‘til next month
And when he come to spend wit’cha, he comin’ for self
But he be claiming that he comin’ for somebody else
I had to let him understand
It's so haaaard to say goooodbyyyee…to the ice cream man
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
