| [Mac:]No Limit black sheep, played the back seat for months | |
| Stayed away from the | |
| Tanqueray, bitches and blunts | |
| Still Mac nigga, ain't nothin changed | |
| Got the rings and the gold chains | |
| Now bitches wanna know my whole name | |
| I penetrate em, then | |
| I disintegrate em | |
| I let the next nigga date em, cuz | |
| I don't hate em | |
| I spit voodoo, to the most hard to get hoes | |
| And at the end of the night, | |
| I rippin off clothes | |
| You fuckin with the realest, from lyrical spillers | |
| To killers and dealers and cap peelers, and street guerillas | |
| From villians to chillers, we made millions | |
| And paid killers to protect scrilla | |
| So what the fuck you talk about winners? | |
| You hear that word camouflage when you hear my name | |
| I represent the shell shocked cuz it's in my veins(No Limit soldier) is on my left arm, | |
| I took it in blood | |
| Throw your hood up if you a thug | |
| And all them niggas say[Chorus: Mac](Woah!) | |
| You see a soldier on the streets holler(Woah!) | |
| You hear them soldiers on them beats holler(Woah!) | |
| Every time them soldiers speak holler(Woah!)[Kane & Abel:] | |
| Load your weapons, grab your gats | |
| We sprinkle daily verbs over tracks | |
| Hit the chest like heart attacks | |
| When my lyrical hammer cock back | |
| And leave bullet holes in your | |
| Bourbons and ' | |
| LacsThe only thing we give them hoes is a dick and a smack | |
| Gangstafied | |
| Kane & Abel you know the camouflage assassin | |
| Blastin and mashin, kidnappin and head bashin | |
| Razor blade slashin, the endo blunt passin | |
| For the cash and, woah it's bout to happen | |
| What you want (?) ugly with that 223 | |
| Hit em up in 3-d, now it's banned from tv | |
| Niggas playa hated, | |
| I sho hated | |
| Spark the weed, cremated | |
| See this game, we regulated[Mr. Serv-On:] | |
| Nigga, you know me | |
| The nigga that spell everything out? (Nah) | |
| The nigga that'll run through your motherfuckin set and bangyour hoe motherfuckin out (Fuck yeah nigga) | |
| The nigga that's catchin these niggas and beatin em down | |
| Cuz they wearin | |
| Tanks, they don't know what the fuck it mean | |
| Nigga, that's the fuck, that's about punchin your fuckin mouth | |
| The nigga that'll tear the club up | |
| Nigga, I don't give a fuck if you bangin or slangin | |
| Nigga when | |
| I put this | |
| Tank up nigga you get rowdy as the fuck | |
| But if you think | |
| I was gonna leave this motherfucker withoutspellin a line | |
| K-L you done lost your motherfuckin mind | |
| Stop the track cuz these niggas don't know about my click black | |
| I down with the | |
| M to the A to the | |
| CIt's the | |
| S to the E to the | |
| R to the V | |
| Fuckin with the | |
| T to the A to the | |
| N to the K | |
| And when I come through motherfucker and | |
| I raise my | |
| Tank up high | |
| You best believe some a you coward motherfuckers gon die[Chorus][Big Ed:] | |
| Nigga what | |
| I claim?Nigga | |
| I claim TR | |
| U!I hang with niggas that's killas with | |
| TRU tatoos | |
| I got my name | |
| Big Ed from what | |
| I put between hips | |
| I got my name | |
| Assassin from the way | |
| I empty out clips | |
| Wear the No | |
| Limit soldier, thuggin at heart | |
| Hittin niggas with throw aways when | |
| I toss em | |
| I break em apart | |
| Niggas get your guns up if you rowdy | |
| And when Assassin hit the stores, buy the album if you bout itbout it[Snoop Dogg:] | |
| Rowdy gangsta in this motherfucker, loco | |
| So I can come through and keep it | |
| TRU and do what the fuck | |
| ImustI bust, | |
| I keep it | |
| TRU from the 'ginnin | |
| Snoop Dogg, the representer from | |
| Long Beach city | |
| A TRU tank dog, bank y'all in y'all face | |
| If y'all try to come close, y'all can't run this race | |
| I place my self above the stack | |
| With my homeboys | |
| Mac and sack you fact, we strap for strap | |
| We got your back, don't even flip out or trip out | |
| Or dip out, these niggas lookin at me strange | |
| My game to maintain, | |
| I let it go, | |
| I sell it don't tell it | |
| Y'all can't touch it motherfucker, or bail it, for real[Mia X:] | |
| Biggest mama, drama two guns here | |
| I comePut down for my last son, the camouflaged one | |
| Mac the don, get your shine on cuz it's your time | |
| And I'ma get my rhyme on and spit like nine | |
| Cocked nine millimeters the ghetto diva | |
| Mia X-rated, golden platinum plated | |
| Face it, when they hear me on the | |
| K-L trackAll them niggas grab they head and jump back | |
| Hollin Woah cuz it's goin down like lips to dick | |
| I'm so tight | |
| I make you bitches never wanna see the mic | |
| And spit, the matter lesson rhymes next to mine | |
| I'm mama superior, you hoes is fearin the | |
| Lyrical warfare | |
| I exhaleSome fake bitches like you name is | |
| MelBattle anybody, hip hop or glock | |
| On TRU I'ma close your shop, woah |
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