You ain't gotta lie ta kick it

I know ya like to see me doin' bad
But I'm doin' good, fuck the police that's rollin' through my neighborhood
Fuckin' peaker wood see me in the five speed
I don't care if his motherfuckin' eyes bleed (yeah yeah!)
This is my weed, this is my world
Don't get mad when you see them hundred smokes squirrel
Candied out while you spit yo' last on the pearl
The Don Daada, I'm hotta than holly watta
Wish I was your baby father, cause I got a fuckin' head on my shoulder
And lead in my holster, face on the poster
The kinda nigga that you wanna get close ta'
But you can't so you start the lyin'
Just like that nigga that think he dyin'
Get ta cryin', snitchin' and testifyin'
To all my people if I'm talkin 'bout your baby mama
When she meet Ice Cube tell her save the drama

Yo Cube, I'm goin' have all da bitches here

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Yo man fuck them bitches, they ain't call me back
But I just paged my auntie

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your cousin, tell your sister, if she want me

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

I'm a be as real as I can with this
Not just the fake analyst on cannabis, who only say that the world is
Scandalous, without findin' out a way to handle this
Dismantle this, either with the rhyme or the fist
How the fuck we get in the belly of this bitch?
I be rich if it wasn't for the snitch
Lyin' to the enemies, wild conspiracies
I'm a say this 'till the day that I die
Seven thirty fives bring on bitches lies
While you bullshitin', I'm hard hittin' like
2pac, I keep spittin' 'till my heart stop
Young niggas tryin' to tell me that I'm played
Once they say you played, nigga you must be payed (HA HA! huh ha)
Pushin' weight since the tenth grade do my thing
Got more plaques than Jordan got rings, nigga sayin'

Yo Cube, I got the new Biz 9000

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

I got the Playstation in the windshield nigga!

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your cousin, tell your sister, if she want me

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

I hate to see your ass comin' (yep), with your mouth runnin'
Talkin' 'bout somethin' (what?), that ain't meanin' nothin'
'Bout your second cousin (hm), who be always buzzin'
Where she was or wasn't, who she now fuckin'
Stories by the dozen Punch you got the sequel (what?)
To let you tell it Randy Moss is your people
It's evident, your ass lie like the president
But stretch marks on your mouth is the evidence (ha ha)
How the fuck can your friends be the Benjamin's? (punk)
And your little ass car's full of fender Benz
There you go on the stand with your hand up (lyin')
Testifyin' about a man that's in handcuffs
We should do you like the Mack said
And if he lie like a crackhead pop 'em like a black head
Let him ooze, let him loose
Let him lie by his motherfuckin' ass on the news (yeah yeah)

Yo Cube, check out this ring, 69 karots

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

It's Kryptonite nigga, Kryptonite!

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your cousin, tell your sister, if she want me

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your mama, tell your daddy, tell your auntie

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Tell your cousin, tell your sister, if she want me

You ain't got to lie ta kick it

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): HILL, JACKSON, SHELTON, THOMPSON