Drugdealing

(álbum: Street Villains, Vol. 1 - 2003)

Drug dealers
What, what
Hustlers
Psycho+Logical, Necro, Street Villains
Volume 1!

Welcome to my world, where DT's eat feces
Hookers with mustaches will suck your cock for a free piece
If you're broke, you decease to jerk
So you gots to lurk through the streets
Do some of the devil's work, then murk
It feels good son, it's great to scheme
It's all dirty money, so wash your hands
After you calculate the cream
Peep me if you like smoke
You wanna fight Loc?
You walking a tight rope
You get cut like coke
Someone's lust, is someone's win
Love consumption, opposite hell production
Self-destruction, brain cell abduction
Vein corruption, cocaine production
Your brain gets sucked in
Keep your stash tucked in the balls at all times
And when pigs ask you about me, yo you better catch Alzheimer's
Which means never talk to cops
So these fiends can continue to snort the crop
But yo we gotta make cream, so yo we water crops
Down with vitamins, and all sorts of slop
But don't tell nobody!
Ripper you got a fetish for paralyzing your dome often
When you isn't got enough cream to pay for your own coffin
You got a problem no one cane solve
So sniff and let the snow dissolve
Life is a cipher I'll let the flow revolve

Drug dealing
For money, we do deals and illegal shit
Drug dealing
Weighing shit up on the scales
For crack addicts rippers and potheads

Drug dealing
For money, we do deals and illegal shit
Drug dealing
Weighing shit up on the scales
For crack addicts rippers and potheads

Making dough is the intent
For sick men, that stash crack and bit pens, and fit gems
Are you a victim?
Today's deal, sell some blow, eat a gourmet meal and stay real
Nobody will be able to find your bones
My business feeds your business, so mind your own
Selling stuff to skeezers
Before I saw Jeez for making beats, I sold weed to creeps
How about that girl Annette, from Brooklyn
She had pimples on her ass and mad problems
I sold her grass
They all got ripped off, even the hard rocks
I sweared they were trife, but never saw a scale in their life
Telling this kid about grams and how much and quality and my count sucks
But you smoked every ounce up
Perpetrating like you a dealer, but you an addict
Smoking every sack before you made your money back
I was seventeen, selling green weed
To grown men who'd fiend to get dirt inside their spleen
How about the fifty year of twats
That light up by smoking pot
Was no cops, as long as I delivered it hops

Drug music
Brand new Necro, exclusive
Pick up brutality part one, September
It's a bundle of crack
And you'll smoke it
You bitch!