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Текст (слова) песни: Fiend - On a Mission



[c-murder talking]

You know you done fucked up?

You know you done fucked up, dont ya?

Nigga you really fucked up.

We on a muthafuckin mission.

Im ridin dirty with my tru muthafuckas.

Fiend, steady mobbin, c-murder in this bitch.

Retaliation is a must.

Dumpin rounds on my muthafuckin adversaries.

[c-murder]

Nigga, nigga ridin dirty for revenge

With my friends, Im on a caper

Ready to kill em, if I see em

Fuck alarm, hold my paper

Im a rider, so I leave em where I left em

When I creep, niggas sleep

And they aint restin til they deep up in the concrete

Jungle with them slangers, with them bangers and them hustlers

With them killers, smokin woo and makin deals with my tru niggas

Fiend had some yay, so we flipped it on the block

Steady mobbin flew from cali so we put em up on the spot

Servin dub sacks and flippers, fifty shots and quarter bags

Raisin riches no matter week, servin keys out paper bags

And hustlin hard, countin money by the sack

Watch my back, niggas jack

Sweet revenge, counter attack up in my lac

Sippin hennesy and chronic, Im the tweak for some magic

Rollin the window, nigga, its him so pistol playin bout to have it

Fuckin bullets gots no name nigga you name is on this one

Ridin dirty with my tru bitches so nigga on a mission

[chorus:] (lines echo in background) x 4

In on a mission, ridin dirty with my tru thugs

Retaliation, dumpin rounds, with no love

[fiend]

Fiend, my reason to gunplay

Loadin my chopper right up the one way

Wishin we facin a dead end

So I could show how this gun spray

Just one damn word, thats all I desire

So I could bend these niggas back like chicken wire

Spittin fire, mobbin, son when them bullets get to pourin

(..? ..) get my adrenalin goin

I aint ignorin, no problems, no worries baby

I severed the crusher, and buried my (..? ..)

Over the dresser, fiend the trigga my lesser

Gon test ya, with a season to kill

And catch me celebratin across the battlefield

Loco, this is the deal, lets put the gun

To the small of his neck, we got caught up and blast

Until theres nothing left, boy

I thought some more niggas kept, what? what?

Cause I aint facin prison

Exercising my right to exorcism

Completed my mission, huh?

By lettin the land just listen

Cause they the reason my lil homie aint livin

So, we on a mission

Chorus x 4

[steady mobbin 1]

(..? ..) the cleaner, alias saddam, nigga

(whats up there? ) cold cop killers

Now its really on (whats up fool? )

Being crooked, we do it dirty, (we doing it!)

C-murder and fiend (there they go!)

We dump the fifty round magazine

Locin and mobbin, til its clean (make sure its clean)

Hooked up with the colonel, and the billy, cause I need cream

Fifteen five, made twenty five, six hummer size (nigga!)

Muthafuckas died, (nigga!) all in one night (they die!)

[steady mobbin 2] (a lot of these lines are overlapped by screams,

Gunshots, etc. hard to understand...)

Pulled the trigga on my nigga (not my nigga, damn!)

As the forty caliber shell, blew up in the neck

Twice in the head, he was dead fore his body hit the ground

(damn dog, dont go nigga!)

Bitches scream, nigga (..? ..)

Pull up next to the bodies, I was runnin

My dogs head was blew off

Im bustin hella (? ) (buck, buck, buck)

Hit the drivers side window, as they crash into a pole

(..? ..), with a few left in the clip

Some for the driver, the passenger

And the rest of the trigger men

 

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