Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crime Syndicate, artist - Wu-Syndicate. Date of issue: 19.04.1999
Song language: English
Crime Syndicate |
| The US is in store for me par |
| I got some island up there to do |
| I’ll bring you back a souvenir |
| The heads of the Crime Syndicate as our prisoners of war |
| Then we sort of, uh, exchange P.O.W.'s, right? |
| And when they get us, clear us of all our charges, |
| we let the big bosses live a little bit longer |
| Timb’assassins, VA, we ruger blastin |
| Renegades that politic, Arabic fashion |
| Relaxin’when millionare thugs, diamond Mac-10's |
| Collapsin, 9−20 Benz crashin |
| Leathal gas chambers, war stories of pure danger |
| Crime Syndicate assassinate, snakes out of bangers |
| Street massacres, son they let Uzi’s spit for Range Rovers |
| Put bombs up under ya, accurate, snake bitten |
| My Brooklyn drug heist’s forbidden, tech spittin |
| Murderous as Hitler’s top hitmen |
| We ?, feds famish it to health |
| Notorious villians takin showers with John Gotti |
| Illuminati, closin in, feel the horror, no bricks |
| Black cinder blocks run Nicaragua |
| Devious, terrorist, cold blooded as Nazi’s |
| Black death, we plant coke monopolies |
| Meraculous tactics, back smack it, with chrome 'matics |
| in funerals, blast the casket, it’s drastic |
| Tougher than Japan mathematics, coke addicts |
| Poisonous man ghetto bastards |
| Crime Syndicate, illegal thug life, project predictament |
| We know that death is the price but still we livin it Dealin with some cats that be starvin to split a nigga shit |
| Richest cats sell for hostage, found in the trunk of whips |
| Gunfights in bright daylight, ransom for seven dicks |
| Dipped in black, urban tactic, kick in your residence |
| Cats fakin jacks on the corner, projects is hot as shit |
| Power move for this cheddar, murder the innocent |
| Rockin’Clark’s bomb diggy, whips dipped fresh than jiggy |
| Poker card pullin, heist night, inside of buildings, gimme |
| that Rolex, the green vortex, rockin Versace shit |
| Nobody watchin, grab em, look got him, money filthy rich |
| Soldier smackin niggas, gold shine tracks with Mickey Mirror |
| Heist the armor truck, fat stack, bundle her-on and hit 'em |
| Fans plot on Mach vans, I never go to prison |
| Not to mention, I won’t attend my own funeral |
| Crime Syndicates hot, cold as ice, we losin 'em |
| Phenomenon, calm down bitch, your man be robbin 'em |
| Wallet tokin, sugar type niggas always involved with us Foreigners, wanna-be-down niggas get laced |
| King Pin, local mob bosses sniff her-on off of plates |
| Catchin cases, back-and-forth biz, bounce like Wimbolton |
| See Myalansky get crook books, some makin Benjamins |
| What nigga? |
| Crime Syndicate, I’m innocent |
| Potatos over snub nose, it’s like you watchin Gators |
| Your shit’ll cape us for slugs and watchin bloody pillow cases |
| Facin the DA in VA, behind some residue they found in the staircase |
| Up in the PJ’s, niggas move big A’s, behind disk breaks |
| Up in the rental, pumpin mix tapes, the scale shift weight |
| It’s either/or, I capsule your capsize, Gigantor |
| Thunder cats clappin hammers of Thor, startin block war |
| Fiends got war, pullin on bass, dim |
| Drama and mayhem got my head spinnin like Grym |
| I keep my jaw grim, bit that Peter Pan style in a stick-up |
| Korn niggas in my X-File gettin hit up Thrown in the back, helpless as a beetle |
| Caught up inside a seagal pleadin to a Desert Eagle |
| You better six it or eighty-six it or Crime Syndicate |
| invade your district, touchin for big shit |
| Blocks is hot like there’s palm trees in the ghetto |
| Temperature’s risin but the God ain’t bust a sweat yet though |
| On my All State I chill with ill cats that can’t walk straight |
| Crippled for life, sippin on Ice… |