The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
Steppin' up out the shadows I comes equipped to wreck
Hold up just a sec Coolio I'm on deck (Malika)
Yep the diction is on point
'Causin' friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties
Niggie trippin' why you beam us I don't step up with no bullshit
See that there it's clip for this stickup on the hip
Peep the correct way to get your pimp on
Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong
Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her
If I'm swingin' for the knockout, best believe I'm fits to drop her
Ninety-five's on poppin', representin' I keep stompin'
Throw up my fists just like this when I'm mobbin'
I killed the last, killed the ass, with my ninety-five drive
I'm deep like Denzel with my Crimson Tide, nigga
Like Chaka Khan, I tell you something good
I'm Hi-see like Spike Lee within Tales From the Hood
You need it, I'll feed it, baby check the size
Have you Goin' Down like Mary J. Blige
When it's poppin' like this, you can't be a coward
Shorty freaks fuckin' beats like Adina Howard
My squad is hard, with players, and hustlers
No toleration, for fakers and busters
Fuckin' with me with all honesty
You get bombed rap songs comin constantly
Bumpin G-15's, Westside scene
Killin the competition, while making a fuckin' green
So ring, around the rosie, and mosey to the Rosie
And I want you to know G
[Chorus]
We bust and cuss and kick up dust
Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
So what's the time? It's time to get real
Why you bust your rhyme? Cause I got skills
We bust and cuss and kick up dust
Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
So what's the time? It's time to get real
Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
Watch me, swallow this nickel and shit five pennies
I'm the loc'est of them all though the rat is kinda skinny
How many linny and squidgy think they can see me?
I'm from Compton where even in the summer niggaz wear beanies
Bustin' lyrics sharper than razor blades catch it from head to toe
if you're shocked, then amazed, when you see me at my stage show
For my stage show beat em up
40 Thevz gettin' busy rockin' coast to coast
Dogs the most rap the hoes then rocks em up
Givin' it up for hip-hop vicitims how should I drop em and then pop em
for poppin' like to get what I got, and I ain't got a whole lot of
Nothin'
'Cause I been ruffin' and scuffin' so give it up when I'm bustin' or get to duckin'
'Cause I ain't given em nothin'
Fools can't get none, so fuck em!
Let me rock the motherfuckin mic
Smoke a whole stick of dynamite, then fight all night
I got jabs like a welterweight champion
The pocket-pincher purse-snatcher pistol-packin
quick to get it crackin'
Went from jackin' to rappin' to runnin' with a pack of mad men
Pull a trick out my sleeve like Aladdin
Some fool tried to play me for a punk I had to have him like
Lunch or dinner, he's just a beginner
Fuckin' with a winner, number one contender top dog
Head nigga in charge runnin' with a group of hogs
40 Thevz, MAAD Circle, Cat, and Crowbar
Best to put your daughter
Wack ass rappers get tossed up
Trying to come in here with that garbage
My crew see the dopest and the hardest
So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed
[Chorus]
We bust and cuss and kick up dust
Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
So what's the time? It's time to get real
Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
I peep game and get recognized, buyin all the hard liquor
toothpick and beedy-dyin
Bitch you got dealt, peeled your cap the other way
like a reversible Louis-Vitton Gucci belt
And ain't nothin' crackin'
For them niggaz steppin' up with the funk I'm packin' Tinactin'
'Cause I be earnin' stripes in tight bunches
All the homies carry nines I carry rhymes in sucker punches
What? Tootsie, my knees don't bend
Just like that actor Hoffman I be Dustin off men often
Jaywalkin over your coffin with an eleven shot loss and
John wrecked that Austin won't soften you're lost and
see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin
Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between
so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygiene
Mental plus my gene equals nasty young bastard
The raps be lung mastered takin' vinyl's virginity
Coincidentally I run shit like Walter Payton
Niggaz player hatin' cause I spoke like a Dayton
I kick the bass like Ron Carter at the Carter when
C and B came strollin'
Blowin' niggaz up like when Mookie's stupid ass got caught smokin'
Figure, your stigma is lack of enigma
So bitch-ass niggaz better step, like the Delta Sigma Thetas
We don't give a fuck, fools better duck
39 deep in the back of Wino's truck
Like robbin' in the paint, fool think I ain't?
Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm pullin' rank
I rev like a motor float ON like a boat to
kick a style like Tical from here to North Dakota
The ambassador of funk with amps in the trunk
And when it's time to rock a mic I won't be no punk
I bring death to the evil and power to the people
My name ain't Steve Miller but I Fly Like an Eagle
Don't play me for a chump, I get around like Gump
And I, got more con in my verse than Chuck
And you don't want no motherfuckin' problems here
'Cause I can round up a posse like Paul Revere
Your whole crew'll get took out, turned out, shook out
Burned up like a cookout, so fools better look out
Fresh out the penalty box
Sportin' a stockin' cap, cut off dickies, and some high-top striped socks
The freestyle finatic pyschosomatic back at it causin' static
With lyrics still as tight as a straight jacket
The last in line but one of the first to get wit cha
Bringin' more terror to MC's than a Michigan militia
Click click boom, nigga fuck your crew
It's the chanky hip-hopper, takin' over pissin' in your stage monitor
socket you think that you can fuck with mine in your wildest dreams
You best to wake up and apologize
Niggaz penitentiary yearn me 'cause I, burn like Parker
but anyway, half of y'all couldn't see me with a pair of Blu Blockers
The lyrical night stalker stalkin' at night in a pair of creased Khakis
Chuck Taylors, my pistol grip tight
Dub-see, that nigga from Westside MAAD Circle
Ay man! Ay ay.
What's up Wino?
Uh like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up out of here
Are we out?
Yeah yeah fuck it
Fuck it, MAAD Circle bitch!
Hold up just a sec Coolio I'm on deck (Malika)
Yep the diction is on point
'Causin' friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties
Niggie trippin' why you beam us I don't step up with no bullshit
See that there it's clip for this stickup on the hip
Peep the correct way to get your pimp on
Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong
Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her
If I'm swingin' for the knockout, best believe I'm fits to drop her
Ninety-five's on poppin', representin' I keep stompin'
Throw up my fists just like this when I'm mobbin'
I killed the last, killed the ass, with my ninety-five drive
I'm deep like Denzel with my Crimson Tide, nigga
Like Chaka Khan, I tell you something good
I'm Hi-see like Spike Lee within Tales From the Hood
You need it, I'll feed it, baby check the size
Have you Goin' Down like Mary J. Blige
When it's poppin' like this, you can't be a coward
Shorty freaks fuckin' beats like Adina Howard
My squad is hard, with players, and hustlers
No toleration, for fakers and busters
Fuckin' with me with all honesty
You get bombed rap songs comin constantly
Bumpin G-15's, Westside scene
Killin the competition, while making a fuckin' green
So ring, around the rosie, and mosey to the Rosie
And I want you to know G
[Chorus]
We bust and cuss and kick up dust
Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
So what's the time? It's time to get real
Why you bust your rhyme? Cause I got skills
We bust and cuss and kick up dust
Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
So what's the time? It's time to get real
Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
Watch me, swallow this nickel and shit five pennies
I'm the loc'est of them all though the rat is kinda skinny
How many linny and squidgy think they can see me?
I'm from Compton where even in the summer niggaz wear beanies
Bustin' lyrics sharper than razor blades catch it from head to toe
if you're shocked, then amazed, when you see me at my stage show
For my stage show beat em up
40 Thevz gettin' busy rockin' coast to coast
Dogs the most rap the hoes then rocks em up
Givin' it up for hip-hop vicitims how should I drop em and then pop em
for poppin' like to get what I got, and I ain't got a whole lot of
Nothin'
'Cause I been ruffin' and scuffin' so give it up when I'm bustin' or get to duckin'
'Cause I ain't given em nothin'
Fools can't get none, so fuck em!
Let me rock the motherfuckin mic
Smoke a whole stick of dynamite, then fight all night
I got jabs like a welterweight champion
The pocket-pincher purse-snatcher pistol-packin
quick to get it crackin'
Went from jackin' to rappin' to runnin' with a pack of mad men
Pull a trick out my sleeve like Aladdin
Some fool tried to play me for a punk I had to have him like
Lunch or dinner, he's just a beginner
Fuckin' with a winner, number one contender top dog
Head nigga in charge runnin' with a group of hogs
40 Thevz, MAAD Circle, Cat, and Crowbar
Best to put your daughter
Wack ass rappers get tossed up
Trying to come in here with that garbage
My crew see the dopest and the hardest
So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed
[Chorus]
We bust and cuss and kick up dust
Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
So what's the time? It's time to get real
Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
I peep game and get recognized, buyin all the hard liquor
toothpick and beedy-dyin
Bitch you got dealt, peeled your cap the other way
like a reversible Louis-Vitton Gucci belt
And ain't nothin' crackin'
For them niggaz steppin' up with the funk I'm packin' Tinactin'
'Cause I be earnin' stripes in tight bunches
All the homies carry nines I carry rhymes in sucker punches
What? Tootsie, my knees don't bend
Just like that actor Hoffman I be Dustin off men often
Jaywalkin over your coffin with an eleven shot loss and
John wrecked that Austin won't soften you're lost and
see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin
Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between
so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygiene
Mental plus my gene equals nasty young bastard
The raps be lung mastered takin' vinyl's virginity
Coincidentally I run shit like Walter Payton
Niggaz player hatin' cause I spoke like a Dayton
I kick the bass like Ron Carter at the Carter when
C and B came strollin'
Blowin' niggaz up like when Mookie's stupid ass got caught smokin'
Figure, your stigma is lack of enigma
So bitch-ass niggaz better step, like the Delta Sigma Thetas
We don't give a fuck, fools better duck
39 deep in the back of Wino's truck
Like robbin' in the paint, fool think I ain't?
Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm pullin' rank
I rev like a motor float ON like a boat to
kick a style like Tical from here to North Dakota
The ambassador of funk with amps in the trunk
And when it's time to rock a mic I won't be no punk
I bring death to the evil and power to the people
My name ain't Steve Miller but I Fly Like an Eagle
Don't play me for a chump, I get around like Gump
And I, got more con in my verse than Chuck
And you don't want no motherfuckin' problems here
'Cause I can round up a posse like Paul Revere
Your whole crew'll get took out, turned out, shook out
Burned up like a cookout, so fools better look out
Fresh out the penalty box
Sportin' a stockin' cap, cut off dickies, and some high-top striped socks
The freestyle finatic pyschosomatic back at it causin' static
With lyrics still as tight as a straight jacket
The last in line but one of the first to get wit cha
Bringin' more terror to MC's than a Michigan militia
Click click boom, nigga fuck your crew
It's the chanky hip-hopper, takin' over pissin' in your stage monitor
socket you think that you can fuck with mine in your wildest dreams
You best to wake up and apologize
Niggaz penitentiary yearn me 'cause I, burn like Parker
but anyway, half of y'all couldn't see me with a pair of Blu Blockers
The lyrical night stalker stalkin' at night in a pair of creased Khakis
Chuck Taylors, my pistol grip tight
Dub-see, that nigga from Westside MAAD Circle
Ay man! Ay ay.
What's up Wino?
Uh like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up out of here
Are we out?
Yeah yeah fuck it
Fuck it, MAAD Circle bitch!
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
More Featured Meanings
Light Up The Sky
Van Halen
Van Halen
Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
Tracy Chapman
"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
I Can't Go To Sleep
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Clan
This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
Punchline
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran sings about missing his former partner and learning important life lessons in the process on “Punchline.” This track tells a story of battling to get rid of emotions for a former lover, whom he now realized might not have loved him the same way. He’s now caught between accepting that fact and learning life lessons from it and going back to beg her for another chance.
Plastic Bag
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
“Plastic Bag” is a song about searching for an escape from personal problems and hoping to find it in the lively atmosphere of a Saturday night party. Ed Sheeran tells the story of his friend and the myriad of troubles he is going through. Unable to find any solutions, this friend seeks a last resort in a party and the vanity that comes with it.
“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.