Letra de Loc'd Out Hood de Kurupt

Chorus One/Intro:

It's time to get the loot, ready, aim, shoot
Dogg Pound Gangstas on a mission to execute

Bitches bitches... niggaz niggaz...
I'm all about the paper chase (say what?) cause the paper makes
life so great, plus haste makes waste
And I gots the whole spot locked down I concoct styles
Catch me rollin all the f*ck around with the top down
Menace with a microphone, most murder masher (I mash)
Roll for disaster, create a thirty-eight, stash em
in The Inner Zone where the Hellraiser roams
There's no place like home, tec-9's and chromes
I gots the heater sequence for the heat to disperse (pow)
Just in case worse come to worse I dumps first
The thump curse, it's the curse of the pump
The one to dump last is the first to get slumped
The mental temptation, mental assassination
My heart skips a beat for the heat sensation
I'm deathdefying bitches lying sayin, 'I ain't cute'
Now she wants an autograph, bitch, I ain't Snoop
I got everything you need from the weed to the dope coke
Crack to amphetamines to speed
I flows like a ravine, deadly as a guillotine
to leave a murderous scene, when the snub pumps a slug in your spleen

Chorus Two:

These motherf*ckin bitches, they ain't shit to me
Every bitch that I know she wanna get with me
Don't you know I got a homicidal tendency
So drift with me, hit a spliff with me

(repeat)

Terrordome where it's on, from sellin dope coke to crack
Young Gotti entered the party from the back
Instant pay, I gots to do it my way deserve to swerve
on the highways cause the spot's on from Monday to Friday
Nigga try me, I light the indica and thai weed
Defy me, young Gotti, when I be high as the sky be
Verbal homicide be ready to rupture
Makin moves to touch ya, dissasembled your whole structure
I make money, cause that's all I know how to make
That's all I learned when I was young no hesitation or mistakes
I see a car, filled wit nuttin but rocks and knots (and what)
Midnight complexion glocks to shake spots
They see my people (Dogg Pound) so they already assume
I live illegal, but they assumed too soon
I got a treat for every bitch on the street, I roll with beat
I got a problem, I got a fixation for heat
It's time to dump, double-barrel pump, packed and loaded
Instantaneous death when it exploded, uhh
There's not a nigga who can hold me, contain me
or tame me (with who?) with my f*ckin nigga Mo Khomani
I'm out my mind like a Irani, a terrorist
with tactics off that Cristal twisted backwards

Chorus One: 2X
Chorus Two: 2X

These motherf*ckin bitches...
These motherf*ckin niggaz... fool...
Don't you know... say what, say what?
Who? Who?

Chorus One: 2X

Daz, in the house, yeah
My nigga Kurupt, is in the house, yeah
Snoop Dogg, is in the house
And Dogg Pound for life, is in the motherf*ckin house
And Death Row, is in the house...