Homicidal Ride

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Project Pimp] Load that .44, get yo' mask, creep on [?] mad as fuck, mane, I finna kick some ass Rollin' deep, lookin' good, loced out in yo' neighborhood Nothin' but bullet lead shot at yo' head, bitch, I thought you understood Jumpin' up out the fuckin' car, shootin' at 'em, tryna kill 'em dead See ya hangin' up out the roof, T Dog makin' 'em eat some lead Gangsta D stomp the gas, ballin' and peelin' their fuckin' blood Turn on the [?] as I head to the Hill, bitch, you know it ain't no love Havin' thoughts of them hoes, mane, that hit was funny as hell But I think I slipped one time, 'cause I think the bitch he will bail Burnin' yalk hot to my skin, it's a spree, got them tricks in the morgue He grab his .44, hollow points sprayin' penetrate while it's in your head Blood spill, messed up scene, with no real doubt, when I'm leavin' for years Headed back to the funeral home, all I see are blood and tears [?] lunatic, I'm hangin' up outta that Chevy, I'm blastin', harassin' These niggas that's constantly runnin' they die, victim of a homicide [Verse 2: Mac T Dog] Jump into the monkey suit, tie up my boot, slippin' on them handyman gloves See the blunt that I had from last night, then I grab my pair of [?] .38 snub' Cock it back, put it on my waistline, headed out the front door, ho Four Corner niggas in the junt for the '95, knockin' on your door like death, though Violate, trick, [?] clique, blastin' at yo' funky ass Roll call [?] in this junt, puttin' you bitches in a bodybag MVP, leavin' you bitches stankin', body hangin', ho' What's up to my nigga Spanky, in 2-0-1 on the second floor Buck these bitches, buck these bitches 'cause you know we strapped like jab Beatin' these busters down to the ground, hollow points makin' these tricks take a nap Step to the hood, you gon' die, locked up in a line of fire Four Corner nigga beatin' you bitches 'cause it's just a homicidal ride [Verse 3: Project Pimp] Duck and dodge, scared to die, Project Pimp a psycho thug Chill in my bank, shootin' that thang, have ya feelin' burnin' pains In yo' chest, chop you up, hit you like a fuckin' crash Hollow point turn up and break through your lungs, comin' up out yo' fuckin' ass Runnin' yo' mouth, makin' me click, 'bout to get yo' cizzap peeled Now you on the ground, meetin' your death, fuckin' with the fuckin' Hill C-L hollow point got [?] finna pull yo' fuckin' card Scoopin' Lil' Pooh and the rest of the Hill, had to call my nigga Tim P-double-L-J-E, Lil' Chris, [?], Lil' Earl, up in this bitch Infrared scopin' yo' ass with a beam, time to plot a fuckin' scheme Chillin' with my nigga, Lil' Tommy, Princess Loko, T Dog, nigga Straight from the motherfuckin' Hill, but I'm also down with the motherfuckin' Four Corner killers [Verse 4: Mac T Dog] Beat a bitch to the floor, common sense in Four Corners, ho Cut the junt off my neck, throw it in the river, tied up in a [?] scope .45 Glock hollow points pop, tearin' off you bitches face Now your fuckin' casket closed, finna fit in tight Four Corners clique so damn thick, higher than one of you bitch-ass boys Makin' all these sucker busters, neighborhood killin' noise Mac T Dog finna click with that tizzec TEC-9 Bullets rippin' through your chest, rotatin' to yo' fuckin' spine If you ain't down with the damn shit, trick, watch yo' ass gon' die T Dog on a mission, bitch, 'cause it's just a homicidal ride