Lord Infamous - Big Business lyrics

(Lord Infamous) You got thugs on ya spot Fresh out the box The crowd so live They comin' in flocks (All) Cuz, it's big business, it big business b**h It's big business, it big business b**h (X2) [Verse 1: Lord Infamous] As I cut, guts poor Blood washes from the shore To the sand, as a thousand veins Slither through my hand Can I withstand a man From the underland of pain As his brains, hit the grains And I bury the remains, with my fangs Piercing through a b**hes jugular Infamous bang with psychotic serial k**ers The triple six murderers Not leaving enough to put in a tea cup When I'm ready to cook, and I rip up the hook Cause these n***as be took bout that Infamous crook And the Mafia villains would f** up a rookie Drop him to his knees with a N-I-N-E Slug, gets dug And bloody up your mug Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high capper don't make me touch ya mane I got the scope, but not the kind that k**s bad breath I got the kind that likes to f** up ya good health Everybody in this b**h lets rip some sh** up Tear da club up thugs On ya spot, put 'em up (Repeat chorus 2x) (D. J. Paul) I k**, k**, k** I murder, murder, murder Hater's in my face Watch a n***a hurta 40, 40, cal I pull out my back pocket I grab you by your neck I pull it out a socket Range, Range, Range Rover, Rover, Rover Blow this f**in' task Police pull me over But I blast on these hoes Cause I'm too f**in dangerous Prophet the Posse I doubt you hoes could hang wit us k**in all you n***a's is a easy task You fools that last I bullet proof a mazz on dat a**, I dash To yo muthaf**in crib Soon as I find out where you live Flashlights see yo face Mario a murder case Roamin through the muthaf**in Black Haven area Prophet is my Posse, I doubt you see something scarer Plenty talk sh**, but they ain't nothing but Characters $100,000 cars now how you gon laugh at us (Repeat chorus 2x) (Juicy J) First I wanna grab a n***a by his neck Drag him to my f**in set Take a n***a blow, and his cheese, and dem cigarettes Put the gun up to his nose Tie him up from head to toe Strap his body in a bag Throw him in a fire Call my n***a's Dee and Blue Project Pat, ya'll know what to do Creep through dem streets Wit dem thangs, blast on any fools Tear da club up thugs, in this muthaf**er runnin' sh** If you want to playa hate the click Then your done with Know'n we ain't going b**h Makin' fakers dig a ditch Scare familys in the night Make'm pull the panic switch Comin like Titanic trick Holycaust wit a grip Crazyndalazdaz I'm bout to have a f**in fit Hold me back don't let me go I'm high as hell and on the road n***a I break off in ya house And boot yo baby wit a pole Lunatic superstitious, on the corner like I'm pimpin If I see ya on the block, I'm f**in f**in wit the quickness (Lord Infamous) You got the thugs on ya spot