(Verse 1)
Hold up...
I`m just coming to blow ya mind with the flow
Know what?
Niggas is hatin` cuz I signed with tha Row
So what?
Y`all been tryin` to stop mine on the low
I climb in the fo`
Let the glock pop... nine in a row
If I catch you after eleven
I`ma have to point an acurate weapon
At your acurate legend
And clap you with seven
I`m crazier than servin` crack to a reverend
Plus, I ruin your career
like if the news camera catch you with Tevin
Ugh! Just gimme your rightful invision
I stiffle your mission
Swing and hit niggas hard as motorcycle collisions
Watch your ass, like you Michael in prison
There`s so many weak wick-whack
Recycle-rap niggas
I`m liable to diss `em
Even though, they scared of testin` me now
Quit playin` games, you Got Beef?
Say My Name, like you Destiny`s Child
First off all, let`s get a few things straight:
This Death Row and I`m the new teammate
Nigga, your crew seen fate
We drop it fast
Watchin` bodies get carried like shoppin` bags
I ain`t seen y`all up in the `hood since niggas was rockin` Shaq`s
Standin` by this hot nigga, your s`pose to burn
Lets make a toast to Death Row`s return
Ya heard?
(Chorus)
Act like you knizzo, nigga this Death Rizzo
Niggas throw ya hands up, bitches get on the flizzo
Bangin` on you bustas in the two-triple-izzo
Kickin` in the dizzo
And that`s so for shizzo
(2 times)
[Crooked I - Verse 2]
Oh... you niggas thought it was over and done?
I told you a soldier would come
Run for both of your guns
While you got that chronic smoke in your lungs
Open your mail, there`s a picture inside, of me... chokin` your son
You`re broke than a bum
Need to rap over some fatter samples
You Roger Troutman... out-settin` a bad example
In fact, should of had you gaffled, in back of the tabernacle
When you was tryin` to have ??? sex from that tramp,
with the adam`s apple
I never understood why they was hatin` on Crook`
It`s all just good `cause the whole `hood was waitin` on Crook`
I don`t battle rap groups
I put switches on Cadilac Coupes
Nigga, that`s how the strap shoots
I still... beat the hell outta fat dukes
While you cowards act cute
I teach these rap, soup-eatin` niggas how to stack loot
Gats to tuck
Can`t tell you cats enough
The first thug label in the world, that`s wussup...
It`s Death Rizzo
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
Yo... we still crackin` and smashin` for some real action
I`m still the best thing to happen to L.A. since Phil Jackson
So all of you marks tuck in your chain
Or on your next video shoot, you`ll be be lookin` like you just got jumped
in the game
For the Row... it`s nothin` to bang
Fuckin` ya game
Thuggin` the same
Lovin` the game
You catch a slug in your brain!
You`ll be alive at 5:25 and dead by 5:30
Call me a trashman beacuse I always ride dirty
We draw crews and clickin` them
It`s all cool...
Cause y`all fools is all too soft
We harder than law school curriculums
Stickin` up 64 victims a minute
Twistin` ya minute
Balistic off the most viscious hylosingenics invented
I drop a line
Rock a rhyme
Shock ya mind
Cock a nine
Stop ya time
Rob ya blind...
Rhyme `til the block is mine
You can`t hit Crooked I; you sound dope
cause them niggaz that wrote your shit... bit Crooked I
This Death Rizzo
(Chorus)
