Eazy-Duz-It Lyrics

Well I'm Eazy-E, I got b****** galore
You may have a lot of b****** but I got much more
Wit my super duper group coming out to shoot
Eazy-E, m****f**as 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 s***, I give him a (POW)
8 ball sipping, the b****** are flipping
Slow down, I hit a dipping, continue my tripping
Hitting my switches, collect from my b******
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 villian cold roaming the streets
And wit a homie like Dre just supplying the beats

Because I'm a gansta having fun
Never leave the pad without packing a gun
Hitting hard as f**, I make you ask what was it
Boy you should have known by now, Eazy duz it

I was knocking m****f**as out
What's your name boy
Funky, fresh Eazy-E
Kick, kick that s***
Where you from fool, Compton, yea

Rolling through the hood, cold tearing s*** up
Stick my head out the window and I say what's up
To the n***** on the corner cold b**ping the box
But you know that's an alibi for slanging the rocks
A dice game started so I said what the f**
So I put my s*** in park and had to try my luck
Hard to roll wit my b**** jocking 24-7
Rolled them m****f**as, ate 'em up, hit 11
Got another point, I made a ten a fo'
Was taking n***** 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 b****
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 a** (ha ha)

(Wait a minute, wait a minute, who does it)
m****f**ing Eazy duz it
But how does he do it
Eazy duz it do it eazy
That's what I'm doing
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 m****f**a
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 n**** on the street and straight took his a** out
Now I wanted for a murder that I had to commit
Yea I went to jail but that wasn't s***
Got to the station about a quarter of nine
Call my b**** to get me out 'cause I was down for mine
The b**** 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 b****
Well by now you should know it was just my luck
The baliff 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 creeped on my b**** wit my uzi machine
Went to the house and kicked down the do'
Unloaded like hell, cold smoked the ho

From around the way, born in '73
Harcore B-boy named Eazy-E
It's '88 now, '73's obselete
A n**** wit a serious a** attitude and 100% street
And if you all wanna hear some more
In one way or the other, I'm a bad brother
Word to the m****f**a
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