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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ice Cube
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Andrew Noland
Songwriter
Gregory Webster
Songwriter
Jesper Dahl
Songwriter
Lasse Bavngaard
Songwriter
Leroy Bonner
Songwriter
Marshall Eugene Jones
Songwriter
Marvin Pierce
Songwriter
Nicholas Kvaran
Songwriter
Norman Napier
Songwriter
O'Shea Jackson
Songwriter
Ralph Middlebrooks
Songwriter
Rasmus Berg
Songwriter
Walter "Junie" Morrison
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ice Cube
Executive Producer
Madness 4 Real
Producer
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Damn
I'm broke
My feet hurt
(inside the mind of a car jacker)
And that bitch is slippin
It makes me wanna... creep
It makes me wanna... creep
(I got somethin' for your mind, your body, and your soul)
(I got somethin' for your mind, your body, and your soul)
one
Damn, I'm such a G it's pathetic
Here comes the big-headed
nigga that's dippin, sippin on Courvoisier
Goddamn I must hav'ta floss today
Now pimpin ain't easy but it's necessary
So I'm chasin' bitches like Tom chased Jerry
I'll put the pedal to the flo'
In my two-tone Ford Explorer
You know how it's done:
Sounds bumpin' ain't that somethin'
Jumped on the 110 she's flyin' in the blazer
Like, "Go speed racer", but I ain't gonna chase her
Like racer X, but I don't flex
'Til it's time to have sex
So when you wanna get togetha?
'Cause you know a nigga like me is down for whatever
And I'm down for whatever
two
When I was little, I didn't wanna be like Mike
I wanted to be like Ike
'Cause Papa was a rolling stone in the Sixties
And he liked green just like Bill Bixby
Told me that my best friend was a ten and a twenty
Pockets never skinny
Played "let's get it on" in the living room
And when he gets drunk better give him room.
'Cause he'll turn the party out sayin "This is my motherfuckin' house"
And y'all gots to go through the door
And if you can't find the door, he'll help you with the 44
Talkin' much shit on the grass and straight down to blast
I'm still in my p.j.'s
He's in a turtleneck sweater
And we down for whatever
And I'm down
Solid pro is down for whatever
The Don Jaguar is down for whatever
And it don't seem to stop
three
Now, I don't talk a lot of shit
But when it's time to get busy with these hos let's go
Cause I'd rather see a skinhead dead
Than my niggas wearin' blue or red
'Cause I got the gift to hit these hos swift
And I'm smellin like a fifth of somethin'
Yeah that's right, I'm standin' in the store
Koreans act so nice, 'Cause I got potentials to blow up a Winchell's
Donut and you know what?
I'm cool like that like Digable Planets
But don't take a nigga for granted
'Cause, whether it's a verdict of the L.A. four
You just don't know
that this rappin'-ass nigga will change with the weather
And be down for whatever
And I'm down
Creep.
And I'm down for whatever
Ice cube - devoid of pop
And I will never dance for you trick-ass niggas
It makes me wanna.creep.
It makes me wanna.creep.
Writer(s): O'shea Jackson, Nicholas Kvaran, Lasse Bavngaard, Norman Napier, Leroy Bonner, Marshall Eugene Jones, Ralph Middlebrooks, Rasmus Berg, Gregory A. Webster, Walter Morrison, Jesper Dahl, Andrew Noland, Marvin R. Pierce
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