"Yes, it is I," says me

And all who agree are more than three 'cause they're we, ha ha

Yes, yo, I'm in the house now for sure

Because I wanna talk about the hearts of men

Who knows what evil lurks within them?

But let's take a travel down the blindside

And see what we find on this path called

Stranded on death row, so duck when I swing my shit

I get rugged like Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits

The gangsta type, what I recite's kinda lethal

Niggas know the flow that I kick, there's no equal

I'm murdering niggas, yo, and maybe because of the tone I kicks

When I grip the mic and kick shit niggas can't fuck with

So remember I go hardcore and slam

'Nough respect like a sensei, whoop ass like Van Damme

So any nigga that claim they bossing

Why don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson?

Take a walk through the hood where we up to no good

Slanging them things like a real O.G. should

I'm stacking and macking and packing a ten so

When you're slipping, I slip the clip in, but ain't no set tripping

'Cause it's Death Row, rolling like the mafia

Think about whooping some ass, but what the fuck stopping ya?

Ain't nothing but a buster

I'm stranded on death row for pumping slugs in motherfuckers

Now you know you're outdone, feel the shotgun

Kurupt, inmate, cell block one

No prevention from this lynching of sorts

You're a victim from my drive-by of thoughts

No extensions, all attempts are to fail

Blinded by the light, it's time you learn braille

From a lunatic, I'm death like arsenic

When I kick a wicked rap, Dr. Dre will hit the scratch

With treachery, my literary form will blast

And totally surpass the norm

Not a storm, plural, make it many storms

When I'm vexed, I fight leg, necks, and arms

In this dimension, I'm the presenter

And the inventor, and the tormentor

Deranged, like the Hillside Strangler

MC mangler, tough like Wrangler

I write a rhyme, hard as concrete

Step to the heat and get burned like mesquite

So what you wanna do?

The narrator RBX, cell block two

Rage, lyrical murderer

Stranded on death row and now I'm serving a

Lifetime sentence, there'll be no repentance

Since it's the life that I choose to lead, I plead guilty

On all counts, let the ball bounce where it may

It's just another clip into my AK

Buck 'em down with my underground tactics

Facts and stacks of clips on my mattress

Bed frame, there's another dead, bang

Laying lame, put to shame, who's to blame?

Me, the Lady of Rage, a woman coming

From the D-E-A-T-H and R-O-W, taking no shit

So flip and you're bound to get dropped

It's 1-8-7 on motherfuckers, don't stop

Handcuffed as I bust, there'll be no debate

It's Rage, from cell block H

Ayo, stepping through the fog and creeping through the smog

It's the number one nigga from the hood, Doggy Dogg

Making videos, now I stay in Hollywood

Busting raps for my snaps, now they call me Eastwood

Dre is the doctor and my homie, little nigga

Warren G is my hand and my hand's on the trigger

Shooting at the hoes with the game that I got

Sent to death row 'cause I wanted to make a grip from serving my rocks

And I'm still serving for mine

Peace to my motherfucking homies doing time

In the pen and the county jail

Mobbing with your blues on, mad as hell

And you're saying, "Fuck the police"

And all the homies on the streets is all about peace

And it's driving the cops crazy

But ain't nothing but a black thing, baby

Uh, I'm not flagging, but I'm just sagging

I bet you don't wanna see the D-O-double-G

And you can't see the D-R to the E

Or my motherfucking homie D.O.C

You know you can't fuck with my motherfucking DJ

That's my homie and we call him Warren G

Yeah, and you don't stop

Doggy Dogg break 'em down with the motherfucking Dogg Pound

That's the only way we'll beat 'em, man

We gotta smoke 'em then choke 'em like the motherfucking Peterman

It's like three and to the two and two and to the one

Cell block four, peace, Doggy Dogg's done

Yo, now you know the path I'm on

You think you're strong?

See if you can travel on

'Cause only the weak will try to speak

Those who are quiet will always cause riots

There's three types of people in the world

Those who don't know what happened

Those who wonder what happened

And people like us from the streets that make things happen