Loc’d Out Hood Kurupt

Chorus One/Intro:

It's time to get the loot, ready, aim, shoot
Dogg Pound Gangstas on a mission to execute

Bitches bitches... niggas niggas...
I'm all about the paper chase (say what?) cause the paper makes
Life so great, plus haste makes waste
And I gots the whole spot locked down I concoct styles
Catch me rollin all the fuck around with the top down
Menace with a microphone, most murder masher (I mash)
Roll for disaster, create a thirty-eight, stash em
In The Inner Zone where the Hellraiser roams
There's no place like home, tec-9's and chromes
I gots the heater sequence for the heat to disperse (pow)
Just in case worse come to worse I dumps first
The thump curse, it's the curse of the pump
The one to dump last is the first to get slumped
The mental temptation, mental assassination
My heart skips a beat for the heat sensation
I'm deathdefying bitches lying sayin, 'I ain't cute'
Now she wants an autograph, bitch, I ain't Snoop
I got everything you need from the weed to the dope coke
Crack to amphetamines to speed
I flows like a ravine, deadly as a guillotine
To leave a murderous scene, when the snub pumps a slug in your spleen