Poppa LQ - Regime k**ers 2001 lyrics

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Poppa LQ - Regime k**ers 2001 lyrics

[ Hook ] I got some k**ers on the payroll, and they know When it's time to handle business, n***a, lay low [ Phats Bossi ] Money to double, still in the struggle, stuck to my hustle We all fight back like maniacs with broke knuckles It's mo' trouble cause now we seein you n***as Paint a vivid-a** picture, Boss spittin the scriptures n***a, I'm Bossi, Bosslin done turned to cash fiend I straight pop codeine and drink gasoline What what, I'm too sick for y'all Tatted with dragons till I fall, givin dick to y'all In this pitfall I'm on the grind for mine My people choose a life of crime, pistol-pushin with nines On the payroll, apply the pressure when we say so My troops turn wacko, shoot through your backdo' My life real, seen a man die slow And I still can't sleep, sweatin bullets fo' sho' So don't push me, Boss is one tough cookie My team Regime, pumpin them shots out a hooptie [ Mad Max ] Who down to rock with the murder plot of a cop k**er Drop n***as, spillin they brains, rollin with hot n***as Rot with a club to your face for tryin to rock with us Straight up, get razorblade-cut for f**in with us Regime superiors, Max Ju spit rhymes, strip mine interior Rippin your sh** imperial, k** n***as' material My whole crew ain't fearin ya, Mad Max the High Priest I got some real k**er muthaf**as behind me And I be obviously on top of things With the Regime I'm too clean, make it a murder scene Glocks and murder beam, n***as ain't never heard of me Burnin em to the third degree, leavin n***as in the infirmary Wait for recoupin, still choosin your brain, stupid The Dragon recruited real n***as for thug music So peep game and next time you speak my name Be prepared for incoming from the heat of the flame Regime [ Hook ] [ Tech N9ne ] Regime k**er number one, I'm back up in this b**h with Yukmeez On the payroll so I spray those foes, make you get on your knees For the pesos Tech N9na ???? great holes with these You stay yellin you'se a merely k**er for the cheese, n***a please Awfully sick, he tryin to f**, so off with his dick Can't floss and he blitzed, molotow in his lips Tossin his dick in a box of chocolates and walk in his ship Talk to his b**h and whisper (he loved you) softer to kiss (He bows down) You get ???? N9ne ???? (We wild now) You wanna rewind mine, I'm prime time Qwest Records tryin to hold a n***a back So I ???? Saafir and tellin me ???? get his sh** back Off with their heads, let them hang high Caught in their beds, let it ???? die Tech Neen, I'm a fiend for strings by Mike Dean For the green I damage spleens, then I scream "Regime!" [ Poppa LQ ] Let's take a out-of-town trip with a thousand crips With a thousand A.K.'s and a thousand clips No 50 Cent can come to Cali and rob nobody Cause gees catch and send his a** back a cold body Young guns'll lay ya down regardless who you are sh**, we make a livin out of extortin you stars Robbin you for your j**elry, snatchin you out your cars Poverty's a plague, I rob before I beg But you don't expect me to score, times are hard You're broke but you're scared to steal and break a law You need not worry 'bout me, I live it raw A hustler with a cause, flippin paper, gotta ball I had to crawl before I walked but now I'm standin tall on em Lookin down on em, 'bout to drop my balls on em It's time for platinum minin, military grindin Right when these s**ers ???? start declinin [ Governor Matic ] Yuk threw me on part 2 Regime Brick City n***as mobbin when we come through n***a, the Governor got it sowed up, spots get blowed up Funk Doc, Diesel Don, yo, them n***as even showed up As I rolled up, the nine Glock get load up For the hold-up, the new hundreds we fold up Confiscate d**, n***as' mouths get taped up Kids get draped up and b**h up-slapped the make up Then I take up all clothes, j**els and paper You got 'cash money', but you don't wanna run the safe, ha? n***a, don't play dumb, I'm steady gettin money from those that hold up Used to drink weed tea, now my sh** robust Now hold up, car patrolled up It was 12 Outsidaz in a two-door Toyota We splatter brains over crack c**aine In the court we still came to pay Judge Mills Lane n***a, it's not a question My uzi weighs a ton, 'll have you undressin Like you was strippin down on Western k**ers on the payroll, pockets stay swoll Hearts stay cold, that's why we's on payroll [ Hook ] Regime Life, n***as Thug rituals Regime Life Thug Lord Regime Life, n***a [ Yukmouth ] Now where them toy soldiers at? There they go, right chea Get them b**hes, k** them n***as, there they go, watch it Where them toy soldiers at? There they go, right chea Keep them b**hes, k** them n***as, there they go, watch it Get that bitin-a** rapper, wanna-be actor Fake non-playin Basketball n***a that got dropped from the Raptors I spit in your face and slap ya, boy With a .38 kidnap ya, boy Ductape and wrap ya, boy ???? and flash ya, boy Lascerate and trash ya, boy Mash ya, boy, I hate Master P like Pastor Troy Shame on that n***a for tryin to steal a name from a n***a Ice Cream Man put flames to a n***a I figured by now that n***a done been broke off some scrilla for stealin that sh** But until then I'm k**in that b**h All you got is Snoop Dogg and Mystikal in your click And all them other muthaf**as are like Mystikal-in your click You're still in this sh**, "f** Yuk, I ain't feelin his sh**' But f** you too, you fell off and I'm still in this b**h Willing to rip the f**in head off a villain that's sick My raps burn like ghonorrhea, need penicillin to spit The Thug Lord, Ayatollah, fire the flame Rappers tired in the game, make em retire again f** gold, f** platinum, n***a, I did that sh** In '95 and '96, so what you did ain't sh** n***as go triple platinum, n***a, do some amazin sh** Some eyebrow-risin sh** and quit hatin, ya b**h How the f** you a mack when you beat down hoes? At videos give a bad-a** b**h a bloody nose n***a, ???? put you on in '84 You was a crackhead in dirty-a** clothes with dopefiend flows Broke muthaf**a out livin on skid row n***a, you from L.A., you ain't even from the Big O This year them b**h-a** n***as gon' get theirs You swingin from my balls, why you down there smell my dick hairs Ya b**h And Dru Down, the real Mack of the Year, ya b**h-a** n***a Longevity that, huh b**h [ Hook ] Regime Life, n***a Ya b**h!