Intro/Rhyme Pays
Ice-T
Rhyme Pays (1987)

A child was born in the East one day
Moved to the West coast after his parents passed away
Never understood his fascination with rhymes or beats
In poetry he was considered elite
Became a young gangster in the streets of L.A.
Lost connections with his true roots far away
But no matter the job or crime
He never lost his hardcore obsession to rhyme
New York's hip hop movement broke loose
DJ's cut records, raps had the juice
Since busting rhymes was his natural thing
He was crowned the west coast MC king
But after his inauguration there was a rush
Of wack rappers with one intention to crush
This master rapper and take his throne
A simple job,he had no crew, he stood all alone
Assassins came in groups of one through five
With raps no mortal MC could survive
But he showed no mercy, he rapped blood thirsty
Battling from Friday on through to Thursday
Never losin a bout, never ending in doubt
Every confrontation K.O. knock out
On his never ending journey to the T.O.P.
The L.A. player M.C. ICE-T

[Verse One]
Magnificent rhymer, I'm the ill beat designer
If they ask you if I'm def, don't front and say kinda
Merciless, meticulous, so fresh it's ridiculous
I'm raised in the heart of Los A-N-G-E-L-E-S

King word connector, the vocal projector
Your girl tried to jock me, I had to reject her
Always adventurous voice some say is sensuous
Now, I'm on the mic so I think I better mention this

I don't like Gucci, Fila, Louie or Fendi
Those are fads and I ain't trendy
But whether your name's Lucy, Terry, Laura or Cindy
Ice got beef and this ain't Wendy's

Bust a move while I'm talkin'
Sucker rappers I be stalkin'
When they see me on the street with my homeboy walkin'
They slow down, turn around and ask was that Ice?

Then they see me cold countin' my cash
Rhyme pays!!

[Verse Two]
Moves must be busted, girls can't be trusted
I looked at your lady and I was disgusted
Came into the party just to rock the place
And your big zombie lookin' freak still won't get out of my face

I don't mean to diss her, but do you kiss her?
Look at her lips, she got them crazy blisters
Body that smells like the New York mets
Arm pits all nappy packed full of sweat

I hope this something that you never forget
Tie that freak outside next time you come in the set
Because my jams be crazy, packed with all fly ladies
I'm talkin' def girlies and I don't mean maybe

The way I rhyme no one will ever slay me
And I ain't lyin' rhyme do pay me