[Intro: DJ Premier scratching]
Termanology
Bun B (Bun B)
Motherfuckin’ Slaine
Everlast
Duffle bag
[Verse 1: Termanology]
Uh, All I need is a hundred thousand of my dollars
And to launder that shit through somebody wit a white collar
Nightcrawler, ice robber, mic sparker
Steal money from my hoes, give it to my baby mama
You be on the ground, no lights, switch the pick up
I be thinkin’ let’s go to war and hit the pigs up
I still hustle, build muscle, Bill Russell
Rap hero, stack zeros, mad euros
What if we opened business instead of provokin’ witnesses
And realize the positive future for us was limitless
Instead we in the club with a devilish smirk
And we talk about God but we never in church
Motherfuckers is ready to go to Hell for a purse
That put a shell in ya earth, the way it’s gettin’ is worse
And these streets squeeze you, enemies dyin’ to seize you
It seem like everybody I know is livin’ illegal
[Verse 2: Bun B]
Like Jamal and Malik did (did)
But we ain’t fallin’ for fuckery or the weak shit (shit)
I keep the heat wit, me, myself, and I
Go ahead and pump your pussy-self up to die
That’s when doves will cry
Cause you’ll do the gangster lean, I’ll do the gangster boogie
You could never be a gangster to me
You a wangster truly, plus you dealin’ in a fool trade
If I cut you, I bet your ass will bleed Kool-Aid
What flavor? Tap water, 'cause you got none
Sit on this Winchester, now you ridin’ shotgun
And I’mma wipe you off the scene right now
I’m with Term with SC, we in The Bean right now
Motherfuckers askin’ how the
Hell we keep coppin’ and choppin’ up that powder
Whiter than clam chowder
Preem got the beat on fire like Niki Lauda
For-real emcee and Hip-Hop couldn’t be prouder
Termanology
Bun B (Bun B)
Motherfuckin’ Slaine
Everlast
Duffle bag
[Verse 1: Termanology]
Uh, All I need is a hundred thousand of my dollars
And to launder that shit through somebody wit a white collar
Nightcrawler, ice robber, mic sparker
Steal money from my hoes, give it to my baby mama
You be on the ground, no lights, switch the pick up
I be thinkin’ let’s go to war and hit the pigs up
I still hustle, build muscle, Bill Russell
Rap hero, stack zeros, mad euros
What if we opened business instead of provokin’ witnesses
And realize the positive future for us was limitless
Instead we in the club with a devilish smirk
And we talk about God but we never in church
Motherfuckers is ready to go to Hell for a purse
That put a shell in ya earth, the way it’s gettin’ is worse
And these streets squeeze you, enemies dyin’ to seize you
It seem like everybody I know is livin’ illegal
[Verse 2: Bun B]
Like Jamal and Malik did (did)
But we ain’t fallin’ for fuckery or the weak shit (shit)
I keep the heat wit, me, myself, and I
Go ahead and pump your pussy-self up to die
That’s when doves will cry
Cause you’ll do the gangster lean, I’ll do the gangster boogie
You could never be a gangster to me
You a wangster truly, plus you dealin’ in a fool trade
If I cut you, I bet your ass will bleed Kool-Aid
What flavor? Tap water, 'cause you got none
Sit on this Winchester, now you ridin’ shotgun
And I’mma wipe you off the scene right now
I’m with Term with SC, we in The Bean right now
Motherfuckers askin’ how the
Hell we keep coppin’ and choppin’ up that powder
Whiter than clam chowder
Preem got the beat on fire like Niki Lauda
For-real emcee and Hip-Hop couldn’t be prouder
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