6 in the Morning chords by Body Count, Ice‐T

SimplifiedEb

GuitarPianoUkulele

Verse 1
Eb 
Six in the morning, police at my door
Fresh shitty to squeak
across the bathroom floor
Out my back window,
I made my escape
Didn't even get a chance
to grab my old school tape
Bad with no music, but happy cause free
And the streets to a player
is the place to be
Got a knot in my pocket
where at least a grand
Hole on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self made monster
of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip hop beats
But just living in the city
is a serious task
Didn't know what the pigs wanted,
didn't have time to ask
Word, see my homeboys coolin' way,
way out
Told em bout my morning cold,
bugged em out
Shot a little dice till my knees got sore
Kicked around some stories
bout the night before
Posse to the corner
where the fly girls chill
Threw action at some freaks
till one bitch got ill
Started actin' stupid simply,
would not quit
Call us all punk pussy, said we all want shit
As we walked over to a hole,
continued to speak
So we beat the bitch down
in the goddamn street
Just living in the city is a serious task
Bitch didn't know it hit her,
didn't have time to ask Word
Continued crocking freaks
with immense posteriors
Rolling in a blazing with a Louis interior
Solid gold, the ride was raw
Bust a left turn was on Crenshaw
Shiny Shine was a driver
known to get freaks hell
Had a beeper going off
like a high school bell
Looked in the mirror,
what did we see?
Fuckin' blue lights, L .A .P .D.
Pigs since a car that day was made
Found a Uzi 4 .4 and a hand grenade
Lewis in the county, high -powered block
No freaks to see, no beats to rock
Didn't want trouble,
but the shit must fly
Squabble with the suckers,
jacked him in the eye
Just living in the county is a serious task
Nigga didn't know what hit him,
didn't have time to add Word
Back on the streets after five to deuce
Seven years later but still had the juice
My homeboy NG put me up on the track
Told me E's rolling,
villain BJ's got the sack
Bruce is a giant,
Napsy's clocking dope
Bebop's a pimp, my old freak's a ho
Nevada ramps rollin', rocks are the thing
Life has no meaning and money is king
Then he looked at me slowly
and had to grin
He said, man, you out early,
we thought you got ten
Open this safe,
kick me down with long cash
Knew I would get busy,
didn't waste time to ask
I bought a Benz with the money,
the rest went on clothes
Went to the strip, start pimpin' the hoes
My hair grew long on my 70th stay
When I got it done on my shoulders it lay
Farts from the joint would slide in my heart
I didn't want trouble
but the shit had to start
Out with my crew,
some punks got loud
Shotgun blasts echoed through the crowd
Eb 
Six punks hit, two punks died
All casualties were applied to their side
Human lives had to pass
just for talking much trash
We didn't know who they were,
Eb 
no one had time to ask
Word