Yeah! Straight up nine to five
Kurupt the motherfucking Kingpin,
Creeping and crawling through your hood,
Provoking punk motherfuckers
like this stuff, wuz happening?
In the dead of winter is when I kick my
Constructioning thoughts that's
An expert when I flex rhymes
can't even find like At lantis
Stalk like a praying mantis,
leaving battered bodies on the canvas
The burial ground for clowns,
Tracking niggas down like fucking
Tragic how the mic gets handled
Prodigious like a vandal on
The scramble like Randall abusive
when I recite on the stage
Double access with a brand
Can I grab the microphone and spit
For rusty motherfuckers to
be acting like they all in
With the click got checks that shit
And once again it's on and
it's on with the gangsta shit
I create the beats that beats the fucks
shown for lootin? Grab the microphone alone
notice- see ya self needs help
The homie style got the strap on deck
Don't neglect the fact I can make
you or break you (Break you)
Niggas is getting pimped because
well (well), where the ballers dwell
Another day, another dollar,
I'm quicker ta out slick ya,
DPG- eliminates the whole area beyond
Motherfuck surrendering. who, what, when,
let's tear shit the fuck up
The homies cooling while you an'
ya chest get fucking blue an'
It's im possible to survive on my
It's left to ya instict of sur
Mashin, cashing in chips I gotta
You define it I'm mentally
It doesn't matter when ya into it
Ya just entered in a war- zone all alone
with ya microphone unguarded
I just started poetical poltergeist
precise and cold- hearted
Empty, tempt me, simply ya get shot
Ya forgot I'm down to empty
Stop let the whole place evacuate
Wait until we're face- to- face
Duck- down, Kurupt clowns niggas daily,
Ob serve I serve those that betray me
