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!