Mack 10

On a high speed chase they recognize my plates
Wanted for a 187 in three states
Got my glock cock, mind is ill mental
Blastin' at one time through my back window, shit
Sick individual, murder was my ritual
Mashin' in a hard top four, all original
Bout a dozen of cops all behind me
Mad as fuck cause Ice Cube is my crimey
Like a missile launch led from my pistol
Jumpin' hills like the streets of San Francisco
Hard tryin' to stump him, reload my dumper
Hit the ground, lost my hubcaps and my back bumper
A hundred and ten, Westbound on the freeway
Bo guardin' traffic cause I do shit the G way
Hard to survive, lit up a 45
No alive instead Mack 10 wanted dead
And it's on, stick to the fire, loop get me high
Drop the four in low, as I smoke the back tires
Peddle to the floor in a bucket low low
One time trailin', hittin' corners, fish tailin'
I continue to cap as the gap starts to pull again
Mashin' through Fullerton, a all points bulletin
Wigs get pilled, nigga, runnin' from the kill
Bugs flyin' into my grill and windshield