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letra de you don't wanna fuck wit these (unreleased '93 shit) - ice cube

[refrain]
you don’t wanna f-ck wit these

[verse 1]
you don’t wanna f-ck wit these
run up you big–ss b-tch and i’ll have you clockin’ g’s
wit my knockout jab, mess around and stab
yo’ -ss in the gut, i don’t give a f-ck
down with the brown, clownin’ these honkies
that got us in the mix with they 666
tricks get found, stinkin’ like tuna
bailin’ through your hood in my fresh suede pumas
and i don’t hit gates, n-gga pump yo’ brakes
cause i ain’t runnin’, you better start gunnin’
take your hand off your metal
there’s nowhere to hide, cause the world is a ghetto
want my afro long like mad dawg
on a velvet poster, 40 on the coaster
cause moms don’t play that sh-t
been hard on a n-gga since 8-8-6
sayin’ you need jesus, cause i got the fresh sweatshirt
with the three fat, creases
and it’s on like that, n-gga where you at?
at a phone booth, i’m comin’ in the coupe
beanie pull over, fool there they go
drive real slow so we can let them hoes know
that g’s even bust on l.a.p.d.’s
make ’em eat cheese cause they don’t wanna f-ck with these

[refrain]
and he don’t wanna f-ck wit these

[verse 2]
i got mo’ flavor than a ho with a d-ck
and a stick of gum on her tongue, i get you sprung
with the psycho-alpha-disco, my fist go
in my pocket, grabbin’ on my pistol
but i won’t pull it out ’til it’s time to spit
make the girls say, “d-mn, n-ggas can’t have sh-t”
cause i see satan, waitin’ in the cut
for this black motherf-cker, to bail out his hut
and i don’t give a mad–ss f-ck
about a sheriff who’s tryin’ to tear-off a hair off
my chinny chin chin hit him up with the right
and then i bend bend got his -ss in my sight
my chuck’s hit the cement, then i bent the corner
yellin’, “cop k!ller”, and f-ck time-warner”
got the wick-a-tick n-ggas say, d-mn he’s so sweet
hypnotize yo’ -ss like that sh-t “knee deep”
and you hate it, gang-affiliated
n-ggas be bumpin’, just a little somethin’
from that loc’ed out n-gga that cater to the o.g.’s
and let you know, that you don’t wanna f-ck wit these

[refrain]
and you don’t wanna f-ck wit these
and you don’t wanna f-ck wit these

[verse 3]
rollin’ through the hood, when i see a b-tch
i hit the switch, she’s on my d-ck
fresh t-shirt, thick like i hangs
they say i got st. ide’s rushin’ through my veins
from the crash units, all the way to vice
they claimin’ ice cube, ain’t nuttin nice
cause i keep hittin’, f-ck bill clinton
no repentin’, just representin’
i can walk through the park cause it’s crazy after dark
keep my hand on my gun, cause i ain’t the one
bang you’re dead, brains out your head
i wish i was the n-gga that invented infrared
now i got it poppin’ but what’s that odor?
smells like a hot pot of that bakin’ soda
cause i know n-ggas from a’s to z’s slangin’ ki’s
sayin’ you don’t wanna f-ck wit these

n-gga please

- ice cube

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