[Chorus: Thea] Creep, creep, creep Catch them while they sleep Empty every shell from your clip Knock them off their feet [Crisis] These streets that we maneuver through, ain't nothing you familiar too Don't talk it out, noodle you, walk it out at your funeral Cold blooded, black hearted, Black Knight and Black Ballin' Black Christmas, be all in your crib with my killas calling Even if you ain't street, then we creepin', it ain't no secret Delete you with big toast, that roast you when it heat ya Off whiskey, pop up and bong that ass like Bob Digi Crisis the Sharpshooter, I'mma lay 'em down gently One shot, guns pop, in the streets of Camelot That's why some keep they shit on safety, others keep they hammers cocked Ready to blow, ready to go, fire in the hole And if a nigga ready to retire, we retiring his soul [Chorus] [Christbearer] Aiyo, I woke up hungry every day (every day) Til I learn to do the hustle, every which and every way A couple niggas hit the Chevy wit the K And the candy apple tray, it gets heavy in L.A. When Track died, Mack cried Once we start banging again, then he did a back slide I was in tune wit the sun, star, moon Eddie shot up thirty niggas, in the bar, over June The city's full of Crips AK's, four-fives, mac-11's, full of clips (Long Beach) Young hogs wit they pockets full of chips If any, not many, academic scholarships [Doc Doom] Pulp Fiction, driving in your car without permission With a video vixen, giving me head like Bill Clinton Got a drug addiction, pop pills with no prescription Stuck in the rehab, the only man with bad intentions Truly, I'm the one the West is really missing Your shit is garbo', I kill you off with one sentence The rap apprentice, with a little sack of new inventions Don't listen, and I Jimmy off your head like a Henchman [Chorus] [Chorus II: Thea] Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze Make them Swiss cheese Empty every shell from your clip Knock them off their feet [RZA] You wanna feel the heat? I pull the flame out Make a wish, boy, blow your brains out Watch me step out the cribby, with the heavy chain out Leaving blood on your shirt, you can't get the stain out In a big body truck, my hair, knotty as a f**k Shotty tucked under the seat, plus a hottie in the truck Get these wizes, get these digits, get my ninjas back in business All you suckas, get the scissors You don't work like you broke and keep AK's like I'm Oakland I be, making that dough, like the Pillsbury Doughman Bobby, covered in ice, like it's Frosty the Snowman You suckas is useless like old New York tokens Front on the Bobby D, watch how your body bleed You ain't worth the weight of a grain, from a poppy seed Make your brain rupture, decompose your frame structure MC's tremble when they hear the name of us Puffin' Eastwood stogies, swinging Tiger Woods bogeys The mic is my co-d, the pen is a parolee No jail cell can hold me, Zodiac can't describe me King Tech scratch the beat, like he caught poison ivy [Monk] Compton's where you can find me in the hood, so grimy Run laps on these tracks, it's a fact, you can time me Ready, set, go, I let the, tech blow Rugged Monk, kill a track at any, tempo It's simple, We Usually Take All Niggas Garments Spot rush them busters, blockade they apartment It's over, foreclosure, your shit is shut down Creep when you sleep and squeeze the four pound [Chorus] [Chorus II]