–Intro–
Ay, yeah you, motherfucker. You know who I’m talking to. Yeah, you that motherfucker that betrayed your homeboys and you ain’t shit! Yeah, you about to get your motherfucking ghetto pass revoked, motherfucker. Punk-ass mark, bitch-made. Punk-ass trick in a basket… You got caught up in the mix
–Verse 1–
It’s the nigga, ya love to hate, with a new song
So what really goes on?
Nothing but a come-up, but ain’t that a bitch
They hate to see a young nigga rich
But I refuse to switch even though
Cause I can’t move to the snow
Cause soon as y’all get some dough
Ya wanna put a white bitch on your elbow
Moving out your neighborhood
But I walk through the ghetto, and the flavor’s good
Little kids jumping on me
But you, you wanna be white and corny
Living way out
“Nigga go home”, spray-painted on your house
Trying to be white or a Jew
But ask yourself, who are they to be equal to?
Get the hell out
Stop being, a Uncle Tom, you little sell-out
House nigga scum
Give something back to the place where you made it from
Before you end up broke
Fuck around, and get your ghetto pass revoked
I ain’t saying no names, you know who you are you little punk
Be true to the game
–Break–
Yeah, motherfucker. Yeah, you thought we forgot, huh? Yeah, get a little money and moves out the neighborhood and shit. But you still ain’t shit
–Verse 2–
When you first start rhyming it started off slow, and then you start climbing
But it wasn’t fast enough I guess, so you gave your other style a test
You was hardcore hip-hop
Now look at yourself, boy you done flip-flopped
Giving our music away to the mainstream
Don’t you know they ain’t down with the team?
They just sent they boss over
Put a bug in your ear, and now ya crossed over
On MTV, but they don’t care
They’ll have a new nigga next year
Ya out in the cold
No more white fans, and no more soul
And you might have a heart attack
When you find out the black folks don’t want you back
And you know what’s worse?
You was just like the nigga in the first verse
Stop sellin’ out ya race
And wipe that stupid-ass smile off your face
Niggas always gotta show they teeth
Now I’ma be brief, be true to the game
–Break–
Yeah motherfucker, I see you got your fancy cars and shit, but you know what? You still ain’t shit. That’s right, I caught you slipping. You know I could’ve gat you, yeah, but I didn’t even trip
–Verse 3–
A message to the Oreo cookie
Find a mirror, and take a look, G
Do you like what you see?
But you’re quick to point the finger at me
You wanna be the big fish, you little guppy
Black man can’t be no yuppie
You put on your suit and tie, and your big clothes
You don’t associate with the Negroes
You wanna be just like Jack
But Jack, is calling you a nigga behind your back
So back off genius
I don’t need you to correct my broken English
You know that’s right
You ain’t white
So stop holding your ass tight
Cause you can’t pass
So why you keep trying to pass?
With your black ass
Mister Big
But in reality, you’re shorter than a midge
You only got yourself to blame
Get a grip, Oreo, and be true to the game
–Outro–
And Ice Cube practices what he preaches. He continues to live in South Central Los Angeles, and he puts his money into projects that improve the neighborhood. Be true to the game!
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