Tonight's the night I get in some shit (yeah) Deep Cover on the incognito tip Killing motherfuckers if I have to, peeling caps too Cause you niggas know I'm coming at you I guess that's part of the game; but I feel for the nigga Who think he just gonna come and change thangs With the swiftness, so get it right with the quickness And let me handle my business, yo I'm on a mission and my mission won't stop Until I get the nigga maxing at the top (I hope you get his ass 'fore he drop) Kingpin kicking back while his workers slang his rocks Coming up like a fat rat Big money, big cars, big bodyguards on his back So it's difficult to get him (But I got the hook up with somebody Who knows how to get in contact with him) Hit him like this and like that Let em know that I'm looking for a big fat dope sack With ends to spend, so let's rush it If you want to handle it tonight, we'll discuss it On a nigga's time, and a nigga's place Take my strap just in case one of his boys recognize my face Cause he's a sheisty motherfucker But I gives a fuck; cause I'm going Deep Cover Yeah, and you don't stop (Cause it's 1-8-7 on a undercover cop) Yeah, and you don't stop (Cause it's 1-8-7 on a undercover cop) Creep with me, as I crawl through the hood Maniac, lunatic, call me Snoop Eastwood Kicking dust as I bust, fuck peace And, the motherfuckin punk police You already know I gives a fuck about a cop So why in the fuck would you think that it would stop? Plot, yeah, that's what we's about to do Take yo' ass on a mission with the boys in blue Dre (what up Snoop?) Yo, I got the feeling Tonight's the night like Betty Wright, and I'm chilling Killing, feeling, no remorse, yeah So lets go straight to the motherfucking source And see what we can find Crooked-ass cops that be getting niggas a gang of time And now they wanna make a deal with me Scoop me up and put me on they team and chill with me .. and make my pockets bigger They want to meet with me tonight at seven o'clock (so what's up nigga?) What you wanna do? (What you wanna do?) I got the gauge, a uzi, and my motherfuckin twenty-two So if you wanna blast, nigga we can buck 'em If we stick 'em then we struck 'em, so fuck 'em! ("I can feel it!") Yeah, and you don't stop (Cause it's 1-8-7 on a undercover cop) Yeah, and you don't stop (Cause it's 1-8-7 on a undercover cop) Six-fo'-five was the time on the clock When me and my homey belled in the parking lot The scene looked strange and it felt like a set up (Better not be, cause if it is they getting lit up!) Oh - here they come from the back in they 'llacs I'm checking for the Gats they strap, so what's up, black? (Chill, let's hear the deal If it ain't up to what you feel then grab your steel) Right, so, what you motherfuckers gonna come at me with? Hope you ain't wanting none of my grip Cause you can save that shit (guess what they told me?) "We give you 20 G's if you snitch on your homey We'll put you in a home, and make your life plush Oh yeah, but you got to sell dope for us." Hmmm, let me think about it Turned my back and grabbed my gat And guess what I told him before I shot it: "If you don't quit, yeah, if you don't stop, yeah I'm letting my Gat pop - cause it's 1-8-7 on a undercover cop!"
Written by: COLIN FITZROY WOLFE, ANDRE ROMELL YOUNG, CORDOZAR CALVIN BROADUS
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
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