| Yo nigga, where was you at last night? |
| — talk nigga!
|
| Yo nigga, we was up in that club nigga, them Syndicate niggaz turned that shit
|
| off
|
| Nigga, fuck them bitch ass niggaz
|
| Yeah, them niggaz got money, nigga
|
| Fuck all them Syndicate niggaz, them niggaz ain’t shit
|
| Yeah!
|
| Motherfuckers think they make shit cause them motherfuckers got a little bit of
|
| money and shit
|
| True, man
|
| Fuck that bitch-ass yellow-nigga Ice-T too
|
| I don’t like that nigga
|
| Nigga had no motherfucking father, Fuck Him!
|
| Fuck them niggaz, right?
|
| Niggaz don’t wanna see me, wanna see my motherfucking.
|
| Yo, what the fuck is that…
|
| Now, nigga nigga nigga nigga nigga nigga please
|
| I scratch emcees like dog scratch flees
|
| Grease, your competition, never finishing
|
| Indo keep me high and I’m always on a mission
|
| When it comes to kick it, AWWW I get the lowest
|
| Bang like George Foreman, kick ass like Chuck Norris
|
| Only fucking winner with these fools selling Gucci
|
| Whispering MC H, just like Crispy down with Cooci
|
| So those who wanna step into the steel like bleaks
|
| Come get this lyrical ass whipping that’s gonna last for weeks
|
| We got grease, Hardcore Hip-Hop gangster beats
|
| Niggaz that’ll do you’ll leave you dead in the street
|
| Recognize through this, this is how we do this
|
| Barrel to your motherfucking back oozes
|
| It’s your lyrical rock Syndicate killer, and fuck all niggaz
|
| Now you wanna fuck with us, cause you recognize game
|
| You recognize real motherfucker
|
| Syndicate forever, Posse of the clever —
|
| Now you wanna fuck with us, cause you recognize game
|
| You recognize some real motherfucker
|
| Syndicate forever, Posse of the clever —
|
| The Rhyme Syndicate will never die, well let me tell you why
|
| Cause we’re locs that’s always on a Ho-Ride
|
| If you hear me, then I know you know that danger
|
| I snatch mics from emcees, I move around with anger
|
| Behavior of the maniac, that’s all I’ve had in me
|
| Bombs’ll get brutal when I lock my mind, it’s empty
|
| Simply I’m in this, but Gangster found that Genus
|
| The one last murderer that never served the sentence
|
| Wise up than an Asian, that’s holding to his books
|
| I love them ghetto crooks, gave my banging for a hook
|
| Now I’m much much longer when my pops was stupid flexed
|
| I wanna get hex and bitches fuck with my set
|
| Don’t let 95 patty, produce it like a hearse
|
| These such fucking little punks, they think they down cause they curse, man
|
| Fuck you motherfuckers, you ain’t shit, you ain’t crazy
|
| Cause Rhyme Syndicate be doing dirt on the daily
|
| Can I be destroyed? |
| Like Roy with two niggaz long enough
|
| Now, I’m strong enough, to bust out handcuffs
|
| Return of the rough, and rugged, so fuck it!
|
| Rolling in a bucket, tracking down my dockets
|
| It’s a fact that I be busting, fools lusting
|
| Throwing fools away like wind dusting
|
| Hand rushing, like Head Hunters, so I hunt heads
|
| Leaving fools dead in a red, hear me what I said
|
| It’s the Syndicate, I yelled from the day we call Eternity
|
| Picture of all busters who ain’t heard of it
|
| I’m burning it with dealers, killers
|
| Cars stealers, cap peelers, big wheelers
|
| Cool like the Chin Chilla, living in a villa
|
| So nigga pass the Nillas
|
| And let me take you back to the days of Crokersacs and Cadillacs
|
| When niggaz broke their backs on the street to make ends meet
|
| We roll deep; |
| in a late night hour on the. |