Chorus:
|
|
Screw on the silencers, screw on the silencers
|
Cuz real bad boys movin' silence
|
Screw on the sliencers, screw on the silencers
|
Cuz real bad boys movin' silence
|
|
Verse One: Shyheim
|
|
I stash butterflie knives and 45's in ma garments
|
Fuck nigga, I take a pussy god quick
|
Peep ma stee in the streets where respected
|
Like the rectomatic dime back to the Method, Zee
|
Bomb on heads like what kid
|
I keep em on slow mo son I'm the champion at one on one
|
I make it death fun when I killed ya
|
I take a power driller and drill it right through ya liver
|
Ha, Ha, Ha,
|
I'm ruthless possesed by the devil
|
Fuck fire part I'm on a hole nother level
|
Tha mess tablets make ya mind flick
|
Ma murdarous styles, I kid make female groupies lickin' ya dick
|
Word to ma mother I put this on tour wicked
|
The first that fakin' I relacin'ma dislocatin'
|
Real niggaz do real things youknowhatImean ?
|
The first that fake the game so Lincoln thrown in the fiend
|
Killa Kane where ya at ?
|
Should he be packin gats, runnin, nah son it won't be none a that
|
The clips who fat plus long, I love doin'wrong plus killin'copperz
|
favourite song
|
[fuck tha police]
|
|
Chorus: repeat 2X
|
|
Verse Two: Shyheim
|
|
I rol with criminals, coldbloody murderers, drunk hustlaz, suburban
|
areas
|
I know ya heard of us
|
Pick up and duck for ma niggaz in the bricks
|
Bad boys, you snakes on the hucious tip
|
I brusk you shit quick phoney G'z won't call
|
I mak it, happen like God test me if ya wanna die Lord
|
I wear black to keep ma I.D. on the low
|
I'm all about makin' dough at the fast time fo
|
Fuck shootin' up shit that only makes the spot hot
|
And we don't need the booshaa, blast the blood clot!!!
|
Say word! Word iz bond [ Word iz bond!!!!]
|
Load tha gats up son cuz once again it's on
|
Niggaz must be thinkin' that i'm sweet a somethin'
|
I aint frontin, want you live, I murder someone!!
|
Ha, Ha, Ha,
|
Fuck y'all crab niggaz
|
Bring it to me
|
Word up
|
|
-----------------
|
Real Bad Boys
|
Shyheim |