Regime Killers 2001 lyrics

by

Kurupt


[ Hook ]
I got some killers on the payroll, and they know
When it's time to handle business, n*gga, 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*ggas
Paint a vivid-ass picture, Boss spittin the scriptures
n*gga, 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 di*k 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 killer
Drop n*ggas, spillin they brains, rollin with hot n*ggas
Rot with a club to your face for tryin to rock with us
Straight up, get razorblade-cut for f*ckin with us
Regime superiors, Max Ju spit rhymes, strip mine interior
Rippin your sh*t imperial, kill n*ggas' material
My whole crew ain't fearin ya, Mad Max the High Priest
I got some real killer muthaf*ckas 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*ggas ain't never heard of me
Burnin em to the third degree, leavin n*ggas in the infirmary
Wait for recoupin, still choosin your brain, stupid
The Dragon recruited real n*ggas 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 Killer number one, I'm back up in this b*tch with Yukmeez
On the payroll so I spray those foes, make you get on your knees
For the pesos Tech Ninna ???? great holes with these
You stay yellin you'se a merely killer for the cheese, n*gga please
Awfully sick, he tryin to f*ck, so off with his di*k
Can't floss and he blitzed, molotow in his lips
Tossin his di*k in a box of chocolates and walk in his ship
Talk to his b*tch 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*gga back
So I ???? Saafir and tellin me ???? get his sh*t 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 ass back a cold body
Young guns'll lay ya down regardless who you are
sh*t, we make a livin out of extortin you stars
Robbin you for your jewelry, 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 suckers ???? start declinin
[ Governor Matic ]
Yuk threw me on part 2
Regime Brick City n*ggas mobbin when we come through
n*gga, the Governor got it sowed up, spots get blowed up
Funk Doc, Diesel Don, yo, them n*ggas even showed up
As I rolled up, the nine Glock get load up
For the hold-up, the new hundreds we fold up
Confiscate drugs, n*ggas' mouths get taped up
Kids get draped up and b*tch up-slapped the make up
Then I take up all clothes, jewels and paper
You got 'cash money', but you don't wanna run the safe, ha?
n*gga, don't play dumb, I'm steady gettin money from those that hold up
Used to drink weed tea, now my sh*t robust
Now hold up, car patrolled up
It was 12 Outsidaz in a two-door Toyota
We splatter brains over crack cocaine
In the court we still came to pay Judge Mills Lane
n*gga, it's not a question
My uzi weighs a ton, 'll have you undressin
Like you was strippin down on Western
Killers on the payroll, pockets stay swoll
Hearts stay cold, that's why we's on payroll

[ Hook ]

Regime Life, n*ggas
Thug rituals
Regime Life
Thug Lord
Regime Life, n*gga
[ Yukmouth ]
Now where them toy soldiers at?
There they go, right chea
Get them b*tches, kill them n*ggas, there they go, watch it
Where them toy soldiers at? There they go, right chea
Keep them b*tches, kill them n*ggas, there they go, watch it
Get that bitin-ass rapper, wanna-be actor
Fake non-playin Basketball n*gga 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*gga for tryin to steal a name from a n*gga
Ice Cream Man put flames to a n*gga
I figured by now that n*gga done been broke off some scrilla for stealin that sh*t
But until then I'm killin that b*tch
All you got is Snoop Dogg and Mystikal in your click
And all them other muthaf*ckas are like Mystikal-in your click
You're still in this sh*t, "f*ck Yuk, I ain't feelin his sh*t'
But f*ck you too, you fell off and I'm still in this b*tch
Willing to rip the f*ckin 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*ck gold, f*ck platinum, n*gga, I did that sh*t
In '95 and '96, so what you did ain't sh*t
n*ggas go triple platinum, n*gga, do some amazin sh*t
Some eyebrow-risin sh*t and quit hatin, ya b*tch
How the f*ck you a mack when you beat down hoes?
At videos give a bad-ass b*tch a bloody nose
n*gga, ???? put you on in '84
You was a crackhead in dirty-ass clothes with dopefiend flows
Broke muthaf*cka out livin on skid row
n*gga, you from L.A., you ain't even from the Big O
This year them b*tch-ass n*ggas gon' get theirs
You swingin from my balls, why you down there smell my di*k hairs
Ya b*tch
And Dru Down, the real Mack of the Year, ya b*tch-ass n*gga
Longevity that, huh
b*tch

[ Hook ]

Regime Life, n*gga
Ya b*tch!
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