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Delinquent
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Jim Steinman
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1
(Repeat through intro)
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Star Trak, Star Trak - Star Trak
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[Intro: Pharrell Williams]
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Lord I've seen so many things
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That make me wonder why
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But if the Fettaralis comes to take my life
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Just give me the wings to fly
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And I'll say, to myself, yeah
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What a wonderful..
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[Rosco P. Coldchain]
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Well well well, why don't you you roll your window down
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I want you to see this
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[Chorus]
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[PW:] When a nigga is delinquent with cash in hand
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Even if it's just a couple of grams
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[RC:] Nigga do what I do, nigga drop that motherfucker
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Pop that motherfucker!
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[Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain]
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I done squeezed more guns than Charleton Heston
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And if you niggaz mouths persist to run on, I'm a continue to step on
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Every limb on, every inch of yo body
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You better hope the outlaw better never go broke
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You fuck around you be the one being smacked around wit a gun
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No joke slick, I'll shoot your papa and tie your mama up
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Whoop out an eight and pull out a straight, bitch take a hit of this coke
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Now, I advise you niggaz to chill
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My percentile rises in the battle field
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Your gangsta rating declining when it's time to kill
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You rewindin, is it Rosco's rounds you feel?
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Your eyes blinded, not from the ice but the light from my steel
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Ya'll niggaz never seen real bread
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The Stroheman type that buy car, brick
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Home and bikes, all at the same time I haven't either
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Basically what I'm saying I'll jam you, one Desert Eagle
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Uhh, coat change Jack!
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[Chorus] (2x)
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[Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain]
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Why did the dickhead cross the road?
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Man I hit 'em with a 12 gauge
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And I didn't give him a chance to reload
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That's what inexperienced gangstas get for playing a role
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You hatin on my dough?
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Look now there goes an angel taking your soul
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Fuck you, your fun, and your 4.6
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I can push a renter, peel 'em wit guns and still be the shit
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It'll be nice to be rich, but I'd rather be well off
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A half a pile raw, house in Conshohocken
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In a rimmed Impala I roll with thugs and thieves
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Not the petty kind but the ones that'll make you get on your knees
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And pursaude you with their thundering pound
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To give up your valuables or they gunning you down
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I wanna leave the pullitzers even though you cooperated
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They still letting off rounds
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Now in your own matter you drown
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Greed and insanity drove me to start killing you clowns
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41 caliber slugs stuck in your bladder now
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Clipse, Rosco P. - we platinum bound
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[Chorus] (2x)
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[Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain]
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You niggaz would love to see me gone
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In a plastic bag ligaments torn
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But bitch I pop more niggaz than I pop Perkisets
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Thump on you so hard I'll make it seem like
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Even if you were strapped your hammer just ain't working right
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Bullets coming in flurries, fiends coming in a hurry
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At a quarter to four in the morning, knocking at my crackhouse door
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Neighbors waking up yawning, secretly calling the police
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Draw', and that fact I'm ignorin
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Like I'm not running a 24-Hour drugstore
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Like I ain't got enough guns to take on an armed force
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Remmington will leave ya mind simmering
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In a fine blood sauce when I'm pissed off
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Which is all the time so you better get lost
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I ain't got a fine line
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These slugs will leave ya twitching like a schitz' and smoke his jaw
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You dealing with a repeat feloner
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If we can't see eye to eye, I'm a sea level ya
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And I mean that, deado
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[Chorus]
Jim Steinman - Rock and Roll Dreams Come...
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