Call the cops I see a robbery in progress Lunatics about to steal the show From the S T L M O 3 1 4 Call the cops I see a robbery in progress Lunatics
s a little too late Johnny's taking heads off of all the fagots who hate 'Cause I'm like God, motherfucker, there's a price to pay Yeah, I'm a God, motherfucker
rest, Who are down there at the west, A grew up by drive-by's and L.A. gang signs, So what the fuck do you know about being a gangsta? What the fuck
ever since I was a kid I played a million empty shows to only family and friends What kind of person can dis a band that deserves to get big? I hate
it on Big L, put it on C'mon, put it on, big fella, put it on and on Big L, you gotta put it on and on Put it on Big L, put it on and on Word up, knahmsayin
give your pistol a cock I'm a Mo City soldier and I'ma be quick to give my pistol a cock When I be dumping on son of a bitches bout a regular lot Don
fun, you son-of-a-guns Just get on the press-ta-talk switch You gonna amuse 'em an' really confuse 'em With a little ol' thing called ratchetjaw Yeah
clips for them big beefs See me bustin', plow! [Drag-on] I wanna talk about bitches I fucked I'm a dog so I can't stand no bitch that hounds I far from a
a lot of shit And I want my 10 G's cause Yayo caught a brick I guess my G-Unot tattoo was a smart move Cause in the end you lost a 100 Mil. to a cartoon
a Devil cross, one's for the soul one's for the body If I'm built then God dies, I wanna see God cry Real tears from a burned out life in ten years
back why da fuck should i freestyle im gettin paid to rap i slang a track laid back almost till its a sin tell ya god somebody's doin a good job impersonatin
your body gets soft, the shotty went off Little soldiers, you're out of position Guns go off, Shams is a Raiders fan A rob and gather reporter, columns
thugs, thugs, with the thugs (If y'all feel this, scream mo! All my niggas on the Thugline, thugline) Ain't a damn thing changed, damn thing changed
thugs, thugs, with the thugs (if y'all feel this, scream mo! all my niggas on the thugline, thugline) Ain't a damn thing changed, damn thing changed,
swear to God I even got caught tryin to steal from the junkyard A born terror, a rebel without a pause I never had a good Christmas, so who is Santa Claus
till ya top gone nigga Dissin my crew you catch hot ones I'm hot son, yo that's why I carry hot guns I'm on a beach in L.A. fuckin fly misses While you
it Cause I got mo' shots to pop-ya Big Pop-pa, breakin you off somethin proper Signin off is the hardcore rap singer a.k.a. crack slinger, bring it anytime
