Trylogy Lyrics
| Song | Trylogy |
| Artist | Kurupt |
| Album | Tha Streetz Iz A Mutha |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Brown, Harrell | |
| Rainstorm the back of the bank, bustin' loose | |
| Like Muggsy, | |
| Typhoons, | |
| Kurupt Calhoun | |
| With a platoon of backwards ass buffoons | |
| Ready to shoot anything that moves | |
| Load to tunes from "The Blue Lagoon" | |
| Mask on, khakis, ounce on house shoes | |
| So I'ma start it off skitzin' on the first nigga | |
| Saul hit the stack, heard me, hear me? | |
| Heard that, word don't pass the front do | |
| Before you gotta show 'em your heart and soul and | |
| Desert Eagle fo' | |
| Explode then watch 'em fold, the other niggaz froze | |
| He knew better, mask in an all blue sweater | |
| Two pumps ready for a riot | |
| Full Baretta, six hostages with a loss of oxygen | |
| Wet as a river, sixteen bricks to flip | |
| After I flip these bitch niggaz for they shit | |
| I been down with the twist since eighty-six | |
| Hyperactive with a automatic, snappin' reaction | |
| I'm sick of waitin', a thirty-eight, | |
| I'm jackin' for | |
| DaytonsKick the door in for sure, double four's rammin' | |
| Hollow bandit, ready to knock him off if he standin' | |
| Position the cannons, telegraph the whole parameter | |
| Paralyze anything that walks through perimeter | |
| Cervical veins lacerated lost to missiles | |
| Interrogated and | |
| I paraded posted with pistols | |
| Time for war this is when the heart's exposed | |
| Change up the game, cockin' and sparks explode | |
| I'm a marksman, touch of death, ten steps to draw | |
| And that's all, end to anything before | |
| In a world war, off like a | |
| Concorde jet | |
| But fool, | |
| D.P.G.'s the set | |
| In a world war, this is when the heart's exposed | |
| Change up the game, cock, sparks explode | |
| Manic-depressive panic and then start skitzin' | |
| Not givin' a fuck while all y'all bitchin' | |
| Dis is for all my | |
| G's, my ho-mies flippin' birds and servin' ki's | |
| I'm with King | |
| T and Tha | |
| Liks, Alkahol-ed it up | |
| Like bitch, get the fuck off my dick | |
| I got pistols, pills, acid, bomb, crank | |
| Crystallized coke and limes, | |
| I don't give a fuck |
| zuo ci : Brown, Harrell | |
| Rainstorm the back of the bank, bustin' loose | |
| Like Muggsy, | |
| Typhoons, | |
| Kurupt Calhoun | |
| With a platoon of backwards ass buffoons | |
| Ready to shoot anything that moves | |
| Load to tunes from " The Blue Lagoon" | |
| Mask on, khakis, ounce on house shoes | |
| So I' ma start it off skitzin' on the first nigga | |
| Saul hit the stack, heard me, hear me? | |
| Heard that, word don' t pass the front do | |
| Before you gotta show ' em your heart and soul and | |
| Desert Eagle fo' | |
| Explode then watch ' em fold, the other niggaz froze | |
| He knew better, mask in an all blue sweater | |
| Two pumps ready for a riot | |
| Full Baretta, six hostages with a loss of oxygen | |
| Wet as a river, sixteen bricks to flip | |
| After I flip these bitch niggaz for they shit | |
| I been down with the twist since eightysix | |
| Hyperactive with a automatic, snappin' reaction | |
| I' m sick of waitin', a thirtyeight, | |
| I' m jackin' for | |
| DaytonsKick the door in for sure, double four' s rammin' | |
| Hollow bandit, ready to knock him off if he standin' | |
| Position the cannons, telegraph the whole parameter | |
| Paralyze anything that walks through perimeter | |
| Cervical veins lacerated lost to missiles | |
| Interrogated and | |
| I paraded posted with pistols | |
| Time for war this is when the heart' s exposed | |
| Change up the game, cockin' and sparks explode | |
| I' m a marksman, touch of death, ten steps to draw | |
| And that' s all, end to anything before | |
| In a world war, off like a | |
| Concorde jet | |
| But fool, | |
| D. P. G.' s the set | |
| In a world war, this is when the heart' s exposed | |
| Change up the game, cock, sparks explode | |
| Manicdepressive panic and then start skitzin' | |
| Not givin' a fuck while all y' all bitchin' | |
| Dis is for all my | |
| G' s, my homies flippin' birds and servin' ki' s | |
| I' m with King | |
| T and Tha | |
| Liks, Alkaholed it up | |
| Like bitch, get the fuck off my dick | |
| I got pistols, pills, acid, bomb, crank | |
| Crystallized coke and limes, | |
| I don' t give a fuck |
| zuò cí : Brown, Harrell | |
| Rainstorm the back of the bank, bustin' loose | |
| Like Muggsy, | |
| Typhoons, | |
| Kurupt Calhoun | |
| With a platoon of backwards ass buffoons | |
| Ready to shoot anything that moves | |
| Load to tunes from " The Blue Lagoon" | |
| Mask on, khakis, ounce on house shoes | |
| So I' ma start it off skitzin' on the first nigga | |
| Saul hit the stack, heard me, hear me? | |
| Heard that, word don' t pass the front do | |
| Before you gotta show ' em your heart and soul and | |
| Desert Eagle fo' | |
| Explode then watch ' em fold, the other niggaz froze | |
| He knew better, mask in an all blue sweater | |
| Two pumps ready for a riot | |
| Full Baretta, six hostages with a loss of oxygen | |
| Wet as a river, sixteen bricks to flip | |
| After I flip these bitch niggaz for they shit | |
| I been down with the twist since eightysix | |
| Hyperactive with a automatic, snappin' reaction | |
| I' m sick of waitin', a thirtyeight, | |
| I' m jackin' for | |
| DaytonsKick the door in for sure, double four' s rammin' | |
| Hollow bandit, ready to knock him off if he standin' | |
| Position the cannons, telegraph the whole parameter | |
| Paralyze anything that walks through perimeter | |
| Cervical veins lacerated lost to missiles | |
| Interrogated and | |
| I paraded posted with pistols | |
| Time for war this is when the heart' s exposed | |
| Change up the game, cockin' and sparks explode | |
| I' m a marksman, touch of death, ten steps to draw | |
| And that' s all, end to anything before | |
| In a world war, off like a | |
| Concorde jet | |
| But fool, | |
| D. P. G.' s the set | |
| In a world war, this is when the heart' s exposed | |
| Change up the game, cock, sparks explode | |
| Manicdepressive panic and then start skitzin' | |
| Not givin' a fuck while all y' all bitchin' | |
| Dis is for all my | |
| G' s, my homies flippin' birds and servin' ki' s | |
| I' m with King | |
| T and Tha | |
| Liks, Alkaholed it up | |
| Like bitch, get the fuck off my dick | |
| I got pistols, pills, acid, bomb, crank | |
| Crystallized coke and limes, | |
| I don' t give a fuck |
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