You may have a lot of bitches but I got much more

Wit my super duper group coming out to shoot

Eazy-E, mutha fukaz cold knocking the boots

Cause I'm a hip-hop thugster, I used to be a mugster

If you heard Compton, you think I own a drugstore

Getting stupid because I know how

And if a sucker talks shit, I give him a (POW)

8 ball sipping, the bitches are flipping

Slow down, I hit a dipping, continue my tripping

Hitting my switches, collect from my bitches

The money that I make so I can add to my riches

Fill my stash box and start rubbing my gat

Feeling good as hell because my pockets are fat

A hardcore villain cold roaming the streets

And wit a homie like Dre just supplying the beats

(Chorus)

Because I'm a gansta having fun

Never leave the pad without packing a gun

Hitting hard as fuck, I make you ask what was it

Boy you should have known by now, Eazy-duz-it

I was knocking mutha fukas out

What's your name boy

Funky, fresh Eazy-E

Kick, kick that shit

Where you from fool, Compton, yea

Rolling through the hood, cold tearing shit up

Stick my head out the window and I say what's up

To the niggaz on the corner cold bumping the box

But you know that's an alibi for slanging the rocks

A dice game started so I said what the fuk

So I put my shit in park and had to try my luck

Hard to roll wit my bitch jocking 24-7

Rolled them mutha fukas, ate 'em up, hit 11

Got another point, I made a ten a fo'

Was taking niggaz money and was itching for mo'

Laughing in their faces and said you're all making me rich

Then one punk got jealous, cold slap my bitch

He pulled out his gat, I knew he wouldn't last

So I said to myself, homeboy, you better think fast

He shot (gunshots), I shot (gunshots)

As you can see, I cold broke his ass (ha ha)

(Chorus)

(Wait a minute, wait a minute, who does it)

Mutha fucking Eazy-duz-it

But how does he do it

Eazy-duz-it do it eazy

That's what I'm doing

STOP

Man whatcha gonna do now

Now I'm a break it down just to tell a little story

Straight out the box from the gangsta category

About a sucker, a sucker mutha fuka

He's addicted, he's a smoker but in Compton called a clucker

he used to have a house car and golden rings

But the cooky cooky crack took all those things

he must of been starving 'cause he broke in my house

Caught the nigga on the street and straight took his ass out

Now I wanted for a murder that I had to commit

Yea I went to jail but that wasn't shit

Got to the station about a quarter of nine

Call my bitch to get me out 'cause I was down for mine

The bitch was a trip cold hung up the phone

Now my only phone call was in the ganking zone

All the things I did for her like keeping her rich

I swear when I get out, I'm gonna kill the bitch

Well by now you should know it was just my luck

The bailiff of the station was a neighborhood cluck

I looked him straight in the eye and said what's up

And said let's make a deal, you know I'll do you up

Now back on the streets and my records are clean

I creped on my bitch wit my Uzi machine

Went to the house and kicked down the do'

Unloaded like hell, cold smoked the ho

(Chorus)

From around the way, born in '73

Hardcore B-boy named Easy-E

It's '88 now, '73's obsolete

A nigga wit a serious ass attitude and 100% street

And if you all wanna hear some more

In one way or the other, I'm a bad brother