We Had To Tear This Mothaf***a Up

Peace, quiet and good order will be maintained in our city

To the best of our ability

Riots, melees and disturbances of the peace are against

The interests of all our people and therefore, cannot be permitted

(The jury found that they were all not guilty)

We've been told that all along Crenshaw Boulevard, that there's a series of fires

A lot of looting is going on, a disaster area, obviously

(The jury found that they were all not guilty)

Make it rough!

(A lot of activity continues here at this command post)

Make it rough!

(We have sporadic fires, throughout the city of Los Angeles)

Not guilty, the filthy, devils tried to kill me

When the news get to the hood, the niggas will be

Hotter than cayenne pepper, cuss, bust

Kickin' up dust is a must

I can't trust, a cracker in a blue uniform

Stick a nigga like a unicorn

Born, wicked, Laurence, Powell, foul

Cut his fuckin' throat and I smile

Go to Simi Valley and surely

Somebody knows the address of the jury

Pay a little visit, "Who is it?" (Oh, it's Ice Cube)

"Can I talk to the grand wizard," then boom!

Make him eat the barrel, modern day feral

Now he's zipped up like Leather Tuscadero

Pretty soon we'll catch Sergeant Koon

Shoot him in the face, run up in him with a broom

Stick, prick, devils ain't shit

Introduce his ass to the AK-40 dick

Two days niggas layed in the cut

To get some respect, we had to tear this muthafucka up!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Make it rough!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

I got a Mac-10 for Officer Wind

Damn, his devil ass need to be shipped back to Kansas

In a casket, crew cut faggot

Now he ain't nothing but food for the maggots

Lunch, punch, Hawaiian, lying

Niggas ain't buying ya story, bore me

Tearing up shit with fire, shooters, looters

Now I got a laptop computer

I told you it would happen, and you heard it, read it

But all you can call me was anti-Semitic

Regret it? Nope, said it? Yep

Listen to my big black boots as I step

Niggas had to break you off something, give Bush a push

But your national guard ain't hard

You had to get Rodney to stop me, 'cause You know what?

We woulda to' this muthafucka up!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Huh, make it rough!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Ay, Muggs, make it rough!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

It's on, "Gone With the Wind"

And I know white men can't dunk

Now I'm stealing blunts and a cake from Betty Crocker

Orville Reddenbacher

Don't fuck with the black-owned stores

But hit the Foot Lockers

Steal, motherfuck Fire Marshall Bill

Oh, what the hell? Throw the cocktail, I smell smoke

Got the fuck out, Ice Cube lucked out

My nigga had his truck out, didn't get stuck out

In front of that store with the Nikes and Adidas

Oh Jesus, Western Surplus got the heaters

Meet us, so we can get the .9's and the what-nots

Got the Mossberg with the double-eyed buckshot

Ready for Darryl, and like Baretta would say

Keep your eye on the barrel, a sparrow

"Don't do the crime if You can't do the time"

But I'm rolling, so that's a fucked-up slogan

The Hogan's, Heroes, spotted the guerilla by the Sizzler

Hitting up police killer

The super-duper nigga that'll buck

We had to tear this muthafucka up, so what the fuck

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Huh, make it rough!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Yo, Muggs, make it rough

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Huh, make it rough

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Enough!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Wrong nigga to fuck with!

Not guilty verdicts for Stacey Koon, Laurence Powell, Timothy Wind

And Theodore Briseño, the four officers accused of beating

Motorist Rodney King