- 歌詞
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Kamikaze Loon
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True Thug GorELL.A Warfare
Verse 1. My CL.AN fitted in blacc and we ready for combat Third World Souljahs strapped with macs with tips that explode on contact hollowtips dipped in tef now you don't want that this D.R.C nigga better known as Thug Klan contaminating souls it's the Murder One Brand drowning niggaz in a bloodbath burning bodies like a suntan the home of the DrugL.And where everybodies a Thug fan enter the side Third Eye as it cries tears red journey with to a world beyond it's the two last Pyramids I know that you feeling this this killer Gorella shit leave ya mind hypnotized and perving like you was liquor sicc if you aint from the side then we killing your clicc snatch em up with a potatoe peeler then we peeling they skins marching with my Darkside Souljahs and they standing at attention looked on the clocc and it said 417 time to start my killing sessions leaving niggaz resting with they chest split Teflon tips make sho the vest rips I love it when the Tec spits leaving body parts de! crepit stepped into the Third Dimension where your Pyramids your eternal essence Chorus
Chorus：Cuz I mash the gas I'm out for the cash ski mask up on my face kiccin in does like the crash cuz I grab the stash I'm out for the staccs popos on our fuccin ass so we blast with the mini mac Repeat 4x's
Verse 2. Sticc the G-Ride key in the ignition commence to jiggling reding the Thug Scriptures steady dipping and set trippin up in a stolen Honda Civic on a mission for riches Wild Wild West is wicced addicted to a lifetime of sinning in stone it was written the Feds suspicious stool pigeons is dry snitching pinpoint the snitches catch em slipping aint no puzzle why they missing dip they Nike's in cement now they swimming with the fishes the plot thickens and gets harry my pulse quickens you got problems then pay me a visit my number is listed in the yellow pages written I'm the Bad Villian in the movie pictures my cylinders is steady spinning spitting poison ammunition get did in now you just a another statistic for the ballistic dead bodies I keep them hidden good ridence I got a ghetto premonition gut feeling a intuition that I'm on the hitlist now my trigger finger itches bullets whizzing barely missing coming within inches of being bacc in the twisted system now I'm Ja! cc Hammer digging Dentist drilling left em dripping from 9 millimeter incisions shred em to ribbons this aint no Blood or no Crippin T.T.G is my religion having visions of goat heads Angel's Demon's and crusafixes from New Years to Christmas my only wish is to survive I'm from the town that claimed millons originators of My Crazy life I'm from the city sitting on a timebomb ticcing where niggaz die with the quiccness the luccy ones like me end up with battle scar stitches Chorus
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