Criminal - Lyrics - P.r. Terrorist

(feat. 9th Prince, Prodigal Sunn, Shyheim) [Intro: Shyheim] 27, aight, Terrorist, Killarmy, yeah Rulin' this, yea, real *** love this *** right here Uh, come on, my real *** gon' love this *** right here Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah My real *** gonna love this ***, my real *** gonna love this *** Watch, my real *** gonna love this ***, tellin' you Real ***, only real *** bump *** like this, for real [Shyheim] I smack *** like you and tell 'em, go get your gun As far as I'm concerned, you can suck *** and swallow *** I'm God's son, the rose of salvation Product of the ghetto, I'm the street's creation I move like vampires, only at night Handgrip like pliers, on the glock wit rapid fire It's automatic, Shyheim keeps a ratchet Me and thugs run together like cigarettes and matches Better give me mines, or I'mma let them rob you What would you do, when the dogs say you fool? Run in hideouts? Let me find out You squat when you ***, scared to pull your *** out I love drama, that's why surgeons know my name In the E.R. unit, for givin' cats pain I catch another "Buck 50", 'fore I give up my chain I'm God when I'm angry, makin' thunder and rain [P.R. Terrorist] You hardly qualify, ***' wit I, Terrorist, die I'm never calm, *** scheme on gold and plat' charms Wit leathers and goose feathers on, I never felt the weather warm It's hot like when the sweaters torn, from the lead of Desert Storm Your resume was never sworn, I'm sharper than the cactus thorn My practice on the patient's juggler, his *** was gone Backdrafts the norm', expose the chemical bombs Criminals, cons, thug drug dealers that carry arms Yo, leprechaun, show me the pot of gold Before my slug blow pain at third nostril like Picasso In your face, invadin' my space, you sayin' your grace I'm leavin' you laced, and beatin' the case All fake *** stay in their place, it's the thrill of "The Chase" Tongue kiss the track, blow out the back of the base [9th Prince] Fifty four shots aimed at your knot We plot like them killers who shot Tupac Shyheim, pass me the iron glock, we keep crime in stock Platinum frame specs got me lookin' like Cyclops We hardcore like gang wars wit C4, raw like cavemen fightin' dinosaurs Outlaws, when I hear streets call, we brawl My dogs start to crawl, like project pitbulls Iron Metal Jackets is full, ready to blow ya ***' head off Like a sawed-off, you soft like a *** gettin' slain up north, word life [Chorus x2: P.R. Terrorist, Prodigal Sunn] Everybody wanna be a thug Nobody wanna feel a slug, crush, stay mug Everybody wanna weep when they see the slugs Yet everybody coppin' pleas when they see the judge It's Criminal