Trylogy

(Kurupt)

Rainstorm the back of the bank, bustin loose like Muggsy

Typhoons, Kurupt Calhoun

with a platoon of backwards ass buffoons

Ready to shoot anything that moves

Load to tunes from "The Blue Lagoon"

Mask on, khakis, ounced on house shoes

So I'ma start it off skitzin on the first nigga

Saul hit the stack, heard me, hear me?

Heard that, word don't pass the front do'

before you gotta show em your heart and soul and Desert Eagle fo'

Explode then watch em fold, the other niggaz froze

He knew better, mask in an all blue sweater

Two pumps ready for a riot

Full Baretta, six hostages with a loss of oxygen

Wet as a river, sixteen bricks to flip

After I flip these bitch niggaz for they shit

I been down with the twist since eighty-six

Hyperactive with a automatic, snappin reaction

I'm sick of waitin, a thirty-eight, I'm jackin for Daytons

Kick the door in for sure, double four's rammin

Hollow bandit, ready to knock him off if he standin

Position the cannons, telegraph the whole parameter

Paralyze anything that walks through perimeter

Cervical veins lacerated lost to missiles

Interrogated and I paraded posted with pistols

Time for war this is when the heart's exposed

Change up the game, cockin and sparks explode

I'm a marksman, touch of death, ten steps to draw

And that's all, end to anything before

In a world war, off like a Concorde jet

But fool, D.P.G.'s the set

In a world war, this is when the heart's exposed

Change up the game, cock, sparks explode

Manic-depressive panic and then start skitzin

Not givin a fuck while all y'all bitchin

Dis is for all my G's, my ho-mies

Flippin birds and servin ki's

I'm with King T and Tha Liks, Alkahol-ed it up

like BITCH, get the fuck off my dick!

I got pistols, pills, acid, bomb, crank

Crystallized coke and limes, I don't give a fuck!