1-800-Spice

[ Ant Banks ] ( *burp* )

Aw shit One of them fake-ass answer machines again 1-800-fake-ass-answer-machine ( *dial tone* ) [ VERSE 1: Spice 1 ]

Mi-ni-mi pickin up da phone to hear da ring-a-ding-ling-a

Mi hope ya not a cop, cause mi be slingin dem things-a

Da niggas up on mi block, dey got much love for da game-a

Jah man, just put your hands up if you slingin da caine-a

Mi got to get mi propers, if it snow, shine or rain-a

Mi pockets got di bumps cause mi so sick in da game-a

Gafflin muthafuckas, sellin em rocks on da streets-a

Ya want your money back, ya got to meet millimeter

Mi maxin up on the block with dis nigga from the

Fac-a Mi gots mi cellular phone, in the bushes was mi gat-a

Ya can't fuck with mi posse cause mi posse be strapped

Ya want your ganja,

Xtra Large'll you a fat 20 sack-a

The 187, the

Faculty is back up in the house-a

So roll up da canibus and put it up in your mouth-a

Geah man [ Ant Banks ]

Ha-ha Yeah, you tight with all that gangsta shit, partner, right?

But I heard you ain't the nigga you claim to be, right?

You one of them studio gangsta muthafuckas

So what's up with that, nigga? [ VERSE 2: Spice 1 ]

Giggagiggada-gangsta, giggaggida-gangsta

S-p-i-c-e is a real one, and not a pranksta

Mi like to bust-bang, shootin em up, mi glocks hang

Shootin out da window of mi drop-top

Mustang Aim for da chest while

Ant Banks hold di clip

Mi buckin em down, mi buckin em down cause for mi kilo mi killa

Roll up a 20 sack, call mi da gangsta mack

Look down da street and you see me, nigga, slingin crack

The dopeman set up shop on mi block

So call 187 line and order your rock-a

Geah man [ caller ]

Ah yeah This - ah

Liquor Store

Willie - ah

I wanna -

I want some for 10 dollars

Can you do somethin for me for 10? [ Spice 1 ]

Mi nigga Ant

Banks, come down with di funky breakdown ( *inhaling, coughing* )

Damn man This ganja gets you fucked up, man

Geah Mi need lick up another 20 sack

Geah man [ VERSE 3: Spice 1 ]

Mi kickin da rasta shit, but mi not

Shabba Ranks-a

Mi Spice 1, di muthafuckin gangsta

Mi smokin da dank and it just might make mi kill ya

If you comin at me talkin about sinsemilia

Mi nigga G-

Nut put together

Endonesia

Mi call it

Gaja, give me some fire-a

Can't lit di ashes, hits me in mi eye-a

Before mi lead bust got to get mi headrush

Even though

Endonesia make me nervous

Mi got mi nine and mi coolin up on di block

Play mi for a fool, mi take his chest with mi glock

Let dem niggas know not to be rushin mi knot

So call 1-800 line and order your rock

Geah man [ caller ]

Uh yeah Uh this - eh

Suck-Your-

Dick Sally from the liquor store down the block

Uh - I ain't got no money, but

I'll suck your dick for a 10 piece [ VERSE 4: Spice 1 ]

Before mi lay mi start, let mi say peace to mi nine

Cause in mi neighborhood young niggas do di crime

It's a ghetto thang to the

East Bay Gangsta

The city streets make a nigga want to shank ya

Break yourself, now you fucked in the game

The killin dance is a goddamn shame

Money or murder, it's 187 proof-a

So Ant Banks, bust da gin and da juice-a

Mi signed with

Jive, now mi

Jive-ass nigga

Break down di doja, roll it up a little bigger

Mi watch da bitches cause da bitches a-gold digger

So D the Poet, won't you pass mi the liquor

The dopeman set up shop on mi block

So call 1-800 and order your rocks

Geah man [ Ant Banks ]

Ah no, Spice

I don't want no rocks and shit, man

I'm callin cause

I heard you was a fake-ass studio gangster

Ain't never had a gun

Ain't never been to jail

Ain't never shot a muthafucka

And I'm just tired of this fake-ass shit you kickin all over this tape

I'm tired of it, man,

I'm tired of it

I ain't buyin it

Fuck that shit

You fake, partner

Fuck that

Fuck that

I'm out, man