T-Rock - Cry lyrics

[Verse 1: T-Rock] Lord Infamous hit me up and I'm back in here So it's the end for you n***as like an acronym We roll deeper than my fans at a colosseum n***as get buried and mortified in a mausoleum Feel the wrath of a n***a rapidly blastin' ya My scavengers will leave you leakin' like a dirty cadaver This is armagheddon, souls cry, it's a ma**acre Protect yo neck, I'm goin' for the sh** like I was dracula [Verse 2: II Tone] I ain't never liked to follow, so I always been a leader Learn to rock it up and (?) the block and stank my Velveeta Lord down that I'm gone, what the f** you mean (?) Got a house full of guns, better pray for all yo sin Heart cold like a freezer cause my house hot as hell sh**, I'm doin' what I'm doin', give a f** about jail Everybody got a pound, that's a roadtrip, better follow If you cross Black Rain you'll never see tomorrow [Verse 3: Mac Montese] You know we show off so everytime I go off I crack yo f**in' head if you think that I'm a hoe dog I'm with my road dogs, that's II Tone and T-Rock And Infamous be on some more sh**, he likes to ball off Black Rain take change away from all these damn lames And if you wanna play games We leave yo a** with blood stains You really wanna try, better be ready for homicide I'm on a mission and get ya like I play them (?) suicide [Verse 4: Slim Money] I ain't scared, I ain't scared, I'm a (?) scared n***as claim to be real when they really doin' (?) It's hard to be a angel when you surrounded by demons n***as tryin' to do me pain and knowin' I'm a lyrical genius Call me ... on this road trail blaze Catch me at the white house, outside the (?) Get a dose of my world rage, turn yo sh** to a (?) Whole click murderous, you don't wanna f** with us [Verse 5: Big Cheese] [Verse 6: Lord Infamous] BLAY! Fill yo b**h with this snow yo, pump her like some petrol Dick hard as (?), nympho on some techno Coke, snow, dope, blow, spear nose, pitch fork Volcanic, satanic, manic flow, overdose Trigger finger steroid flex b**h, pressure vest Give a f** less wile I (?) with a Smith & Wess' Butcher with a hooker, give yo mammy some of that sugar I'm the man they call the boogy, come to (?) full of booger sugar