Pumpkinhead - The Professionals lyrics

[Intro: Block McCloud] Yeah, yeah. What, what? Block McCloud, William Tell, Pumpkinhead. The professionals. Brooklyn Ac', baby. Yeah [Hook: Block McCloud] (x2) The professional, the a**a**in, the k**er in Your Channel Nine thriller, the specialist Contract on your head, a marked man. I'll sign your d**h Certificate. My heart's cold enough to live with it [Verse 1: Block McCloud] The professionals dressed to k**. Get one d**h per mill Use stealth and sk** to achieve wealth once the weapon's filled I'll terrorize from Heaven's highs, inspect with eyes of eagles ‘Til dead, despised, can't be recognized—my head's disguised With the best facades, can't see us. We disappear like A Wild West mirage. Specialists in espionage f** a marked Luger—plastic gats get pa**ed in parts through the Metal detector, a**embled by the sharpshooter This terrorist never missed. The cleverest in the building Past the parking lot, our way: step out your car, get shot (Blao!) X marks the spot. Hearts get popped—hard to Block Bullets tipped with Teflon, fullest clips ensure your head's gone The scene: left you deceased. Walked out the building dressed As a priest. [?] your last life before you rest in peace Suggesting to each spectator that I'm also a witness Get lost in the crowd as I cross you off my hit list [Hook: Block McCloud] (x2) The professional, the a**a**in, the k**er in Your Channel Nine thriller, the specialist Contract on your head, a marked man. I'll sign your d**h Certificate. My heart's cold enough to live with it [Verse 2: Will Tell] I'm a professional. Cut your throat, put you in a hospital Modern-day mercenary. No mission is impossible First transmission, I could almost taste the cash. We hitting Armored cars in Brooklyn, strapped with heat and Jason masks Throw the guards down face-down. f** that sh**. I want mine I grabbed the bombs, be out before the three-minute response time All civilians better stay far from the Explosion when I detonate the getaway car. Don't be A cheapskate—one mill in unmarked bills. n***a The street place exchanged the bombs for the briefcase These guys are good thieves, spies in hoods Burning up your rapping books with k**er lines and grappling hooks [Hook: Block McCloud] (x2) The professional, the a**a**in, the k**er in Your Channel Nine thriller, the specialist Contract on your head, a marked man. I'll sign your d**h Certificate. My heart's cold enough to live with it [Verse 3: Pumpkinhead] Yo, show me the briefcase, keep your hands where I can see ‘em One false move and I'll leave that head leaking (Bow!) You got a job for me? Who are they? Where do they live? Is it business or revenge and do they have any kids? ‘Cause that'll double the fee ‘cause that brings trouble to me I handle things quietly, silently. The professional Society in trench coats to conceal rifles With scopes, ignite at your throat, taking both for notes With mad rounds, you'll get clapped down. Assa**ins With unknown backgrounds jumping down in black gowns Camouflage garments, grenade under each armpit Evade a building heavily guarded, I'll execute my target If someone enters the room, I'll blend into the carpet With daggers, I'll cut the blood flow to your heart cartilage You got sixty seconds to live. I'll spit on your grave, sh** on Your name. Simple and plain, you wasn't hip to the game Six million ways to die: slitting your veins Splitting your brain, torture devices, whips, and chains Inflicting pain, sick and insane is how my victims Are slain as their predicament changed deranged [Hook: Block McCloud] (x2) The professional, the a**a**in, the k**er in Your Channel Nine thriller, the specialist Contract on your head, a marked man. I'll sign your d**h Certificate. My heart's cold enough to live with it [Interlude 1: Block McCloud] *Hook Adlibs* [Outro: Mr. Metaphor] William Tell, Building Block, Pumpkinhead