# A child was born in the East one day # Moved to the West coast after his parents passed away # Never understood his fascination with rhymes or beats # In poetry he was considered elite # Became a young gangster in the streets of L.A. # Lost connections with his true roots far away # But no matter the job or crime # He never lost his hardcore obsession to rhyme # New York's hip hop movement broke loose # DJ's cut records, raps had the juice # Since busting rhymes was his natural thing # He was crowned the west coast MC king # But after his inauguration there was a rush # Of wack rappers with one intention to crush # This master rapper and take his throne # A simple job, he had no crew, he stood all alone # Assassins came in groups of one through five # With raps no mortal MC could survive # But he showed no mercy, he rapped blood thirsty # Battling from Friday on through to Thursday # Never losin a bout, never ending in doubt # Every confrontation K.O. knock out # On his never ending journey to the T.O.P. # The L.A. player M.C. ICE-T [Intro from Rhyme Pays (1987)]
A Tribute To Ice-T
Rapper, actor, & rock artist
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