Thug Chronicles

We bring the thug shit for real nigga You know how we do Y'all know how a nigga bring it Straight direct at you kid Like a Don from out of Sicily; under the arm is where the pistol be Top of your forehead, the kiss'll be Planted ever so soft and gentle but die viciously Hours of torture, before the torture apply misery Days before I feel pity to give a guy liberty Seen him, his pants shitty and eyes all glittery I'll die a rich man before the FBI figure me Forty stories up, inside a high rise in Italy No hidden forces, only natural courses deliver me Gray hairs from the great years, fears never shiver me Reminscin', how we car-bombed ignitions Of politicians, judges strong-armed to listen Men turnin' up dead, or hurt harmed and missin' Bulletproof cars are driven, Teflon edition Bodies cut up in large chunks, thrown in car trunks Music inside the bar stunk Gettin' surrounded by bitches blowin' cigars drunk One of my stonefaced goons'll make your heart pump Electrocution with cables that make the car jump The yard punks, that sinned with a life sentence for sellin' hard junk The family, the whole commission Has been around since the days before prohibition (no doubt) Mathematics was good then, the slow addition Some overdosed down a coke slope, a dope addiction Lookin' back on them days, I ran a whole division Some of the Jake and the state was tryin' to throw the mission They caught a ticket ride to hell with no admission; beyond these tracks A life of networkin', sippin' bourbon and cognac First version observin' in stocks and bonds we stack The chronicles, these are the days of Don G Rap With, murder on his mind, take it in blood We takin' that aim, and niggaz throwin' shit in the game [Chorus x2] How it feel when we comin at you, these gats blowin' at you Personally, don't give a fuck where you at And an unfamiliar face, you know we like WHO DAT? On point nigga, it ain't goin' down like that We do our thing, underhandedly still, tuck a mill' For the family will, mansion and hot wheels in Amityville Treat a snitch nigga like Sam when he squeal Break the code of silence, just hand me the steel For every wrong done, a man'll be killed, there's plans to rebuild Curtains and drapes, got these Jakes tryin' to can me for real Until then, be in the backyard with clam on the grill Or catch me laid up in the canopy ill With two mamis handin' me thrills; Vivica Fox body Vanity grills Rubberbandin' these bills; tryin' to duck the fame and the glamor Tryin' to stay from out the range of the scanners Not tryin' to get my frame in the camera Avoid tabloids and front pages Bums get knocked off and bumped for favors Collect Trump papers with pumps and gauges Royale suites when I bunk in Vegas Got homicide searchin' the city dump for neighbors Pinky ring with a chunk of glacier Copped a spot with a bunch of acres Some of them got they bodies slumped for capers Barcaleo hat, ducks and gators Got a crib full of housemaids, butlers and waiters My click, from the minor league jump to major We gon' rock until we jackpot, fuck them haters If we have to run up in City Hall, abduct the Mayor Any man against the master plan can fuck with craters! [Chorus x 1 1/2]