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Criminal
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Hoover
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1
[Intro: Shyheim]
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27, aight, Terrorist, Killarmy, yeah
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Rulin' this, yea, real niggas love this shit right here
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Uh, come on, my real niggas gon' love this shit right here
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Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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My real niggas gonna love this shit, my real niggas gonna love this shit
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Watch, my real niggas gonna love this shit, tellin' you
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Real niggas, only real niggas bump shit like this, for real
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[Shyheim]
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I smack niggas like you and tell 'em, go get your gun
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As far as I'm concerned, you can suck dick and swallow cum
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I'm God's son, the rose of salvation
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Product of the ghetto, I'm the street's creation
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I move like vampires, only at night
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Handgrip like pliers, on the glock wit rapid fire
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It's automatic, Shyheim keeps a ratchet
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Me and thugs run together like cigarettes and matches
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Better give me mines, or I'mma let them rob you
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What would you do, when the dogs say you fool?
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Run in hideouts? Let me find out
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You squat when you piss, scared to pull your dick out
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I love drama, that's why surgeons know my name
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In the E.R. unit, for givin' cats pain
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I catch another "Buck 50", 'fore I give up my chain
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I'm God when I'm angry, makin' thunder and rain
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[P.R. Terrorist]
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You hardly qualify, fuckin' wit I, Terrorist, die
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I'm never calm, niggas scheme on gold and plat' charms
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Wit leathers and goose feathers on, I never felt the weather warm
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It's hot like when the sweaters torn, from the lead of Desert Storm
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Your resume was never sworn, I'm sharper than the cactus thorn
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My practice on the patient's juggler, his ass was gone
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Backdrafts the norm', expose the chemical bombs
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Criminals, cons, thug drug dealers that carry arms
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Yo, leprechaun, show me the pot of gold
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Before my slug blow pain at third nostril like Picasso
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In your face, invadin' my space, you sayin' your grace
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I'm leavin' you laced, and beatin' the case
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All fake niggas stay in their place, it's the thrill of "The Chase"
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Tongue kiss the track, blow out the back of the base
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[9th Prince]
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Fifty four shots aimed at your knot
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We plot like them killers who shot Tupac
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Shyheim, pass me the iron glock, we keep crime in stock
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Platinum frame specs got me lookin' like Cyclops
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We hardcore like gang wars wit C4, raw like cavemen fightin' dinosaurs
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Outlaws, when I hear streets call, we brawl
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My dogs start to crawl, like project pitbulls
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Iron Metal Jackets is full, ready to blow ya fuckin' head off
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Like a sawed-off, you soft like a homo gettin' slain up north, word life
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[Chorus 2X: P.R. Terrorist, Prodigal Sunn]
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Everybody wanna be a thug
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Nobody wanna feel a slug, crush, stay mug
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Everybody wanna weep when they see the slugs
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Yet everybody coppin' pleas when they see the judge
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It's Criminal
Britney Spears - Criminal (Lyrics)
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