ILL BILL, O.C., Sean Price, Sick Jacken - Trouble Shooters lyrics

We them trouble shooters in bubblegooses
Hit you with double Rugers
Son we ruthless, guns and goon flicks
We run this goon shit
Slit your throat and fuck
You with pool sticks, too sick
Super gruesome, intrusive and abusive
Shoot you with uzis ill Bill, cult leader, a
K a the ultimate assassin
Show you how to turn a broken
Cell phone into a ratchet
Veterans of stone, venomous and cold
Terrorists with messengers of chrome
Settlements explode
Apocalyptic face off, Babel to Bilderberg
Witch's curse
Pistols burst, incestuous sisters flirt
Seduce you in Lucifer's church, crucify you
Kiss the dirt information is power
Now put that shit to work
Let the light be revealed
From the Triple Stage Darkness
To the Seven Seals
Ebbets Field, forever real, rebels kill
Devil's fill your glass with forbidden fruit
Hidden truth vikings drink blood
Gangsters drink gin and juice
I'm surrounded by preachers of
Porn, creatures of war, leaches and whores
Billionaires with features in Forbes
The creeps and the crawls
Reaching across to touch my
Enemies with a sword put them in they place
Represent the deceased with a corpse
With a silver dollar left behind
To lay on his eyes
For the boatman at the river Styx
To pay for his ride
Saudi businessmen fund terror from
Their American summer homes
While W lay nude in a
Coffin for Skull and Bones
Undertones never dumb though
He played the villain
Dumber people think you are
The more surprised they are
When you kill them

A never-ending war descending us all
Epitome of enemy brawls
Send you to Hell and through heavenly doors
Lebanese arms to sever the devil
Heavenly cause
The deadly spar, immortalized in felony bars
The melody's dark cause of the
Death metal he brought
And caused by total meth bark
Of seventeen blunts yeah the streets got a
Lot of heart and soul and the Sicksider
Make the block hotter than Hell
Fuckin with my mind it's not a game
The Sick and Infamous is born insane
You do it wrong and they respond with pain
Heroin vein
The pigs stink they're all the same
Homeland terror got named, the federal came
So, it's troubleshoot
Reprogram cannons to damage jaws
Banned hammers from shooting
Bandanas and camouflage
We killed the man for status
Or dead president mathematics
And now we shake the fans tryin to get at it

I was a small crack packin'
To the wall jack macking
All swollen on parole
Now I'm back black rapping
Soon as I came home I went to my man crib
He give me a quarter brick -
Get it how you live
Momma I want to sing, momma I got to sling
Delaware trips made a nigga feel like a king
Bling bling, karats on my neck, nah
Carrots in the cup after doing ten sets
Been fresh since Brandy was
Fuckin' with Ronday
And brown Macy bags used to cover the Con-way
Matter fact when Willis was
Fuckin' with Charlene
I wrote my first rhyme and
Since then every bar's mean
Sean Price, the best rapper in New York
And plus 49 states, nigga my rhyme great
Primate, Sean Don Cornelius
It's maximum stupidity, par mall silliest
My gift of gab is a gift from God
I will, get you stabbed and get you robbed
P'!

On wrong, four-four long
Sean Price didn't give it as a
Gift on some Brooklyn shit
Cracked the box with Gemstar
Then tossed the ox slip on my Nike Shox
Snatch a Guinness from icebox
Michael Jai White, felony spawn
Hell if I'm gone fuck atonement for my sins
Enemies I'm comin' for 'em
On the run like Lucas
Preventin' niggas from reproducin'
Heirs to thrones so I cut short your feature
"Soliloquies of Chaos
" trouble shooters what they are
Bill sends you commission for
Facilitatin the seance
My mans Sick guardin corridor two
These +Game of Death+ levels
Does not include Bruce
One thing fo' sho' is a foot in the chest
Like Abdul Jabbar, black shades, arms crossed
So goes the process of elimination
Bound, gagged, and wired up for detonation