Cube

The world according to AmeriKKKa’s most-wanted rapper.

  1. Three in the morning, soft light in a sound booth, downtown, underground. Ice Cube in the house, on the mike. Headphones, knit cap, arched brow and a scowl, a spiral notebook on the music stand, CUBE’S MONEY scrawled across the cover, dope rhymes ink-penned inside. He clears his throat, adjusts the spit screen. Head up to rip shit, you know what I mean? Yo. To flow and throw and show. Drop an old school beat, homeboy. Kick it, Cube:

    I heard pay-backs a muthafuckin’ nigga, that’s wild
    I’m sick of gettin’ treated like a goddamn stepchild
    Fuck a punk ’cause I ain’t him
    You got to deal with the nine double m
    The day is come that you all hate
    Just think if niggas decide to retaliate
    They try to keep me from runnin’ up
    I never tell you to get down, it’s all about coming up
    So what they do—go an’ ban the AK
    My shit wasn’t registered any fuckin’ way
    So you better duck away, run and hide out
    When I’m rollin real slow and the lights out
    ’Cause I’m about to fuck up the program
    Shooting out the window of a drop-top brougham
    While I’m shootin let’s see who drop
    The police, the media, the suckers that went pop
    And muthafuckas that say they too black
    Put ’em overseas, they’d be begging to come back
    They say we promote gangs and drugs
    You wanna sweep a nigga like me up under the rug
    Kickin’ shit called street knowledge
    Why more niggas in the pen than in college?
    And ’cause of that line I might be your cellmate
    That’s why I’m the nigga ya love to hate.

    ***

    O’Shea “Ice Cube” Jackson is the Ni...

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