[Ice Cube]

Can you say guerilla.. motherfucker?? (2X)

[J Dee]

Well aww shit god damn here I go flippin the script

The brand new 1993 fat guerilla shit

All you rooty poot nickel plated punk ass bustaz

You flossin on the Mob it's mandatory that we buck ya

How ever could you call us gangstas you little prankster (bitch)

You analyzed it wrong so now it's time for me to bank ya

Street politicians on a mission and I'm wishin

to clear the rumor up because my niggaz, keep bitchin

about the little story that you print, witcha ink

I never ever bit my tongue, your shit stinks

Bust a cracker into two or, I shake you to the sewer

I gaffle yo' ass up and make it stink like manure

So if you wanna print it, print it right, you sucker

Cause we, can all be some fightin motherfuckers

And if you disrespect me I'ma bank ya

Peace to Spice 1, but guerillas ain't gangstas, yeah

[Ice Cube]

One two three I'm a G

As in guerilla, see I'm a KILLA

One two three I'm a G

As in guerilla, see I'm a KILLA

Break em off somethin.. he heh

[T-Bone]

Here I go, flippin the tongue, I'm not the diggedy dun

It's the L period, M.O.B. and that's where I'm from

Had the twenty-two, pulled over, gets popped

Now my rose with the glock in the new stash spot

J-Dee kicked the habit and he still smoke blunts

Shorty got the O with the monster bumps

So here I go or can I go on the fat track

Cause I'm still much black, hittin devils with the bat

So where's the pen and pad, don't even try to trip

No diss to no G's, ain't on that tip

Guerillas out the jungle but we still in the mist

Buck the devil, buck the devil, boom with the black fist