Dope D.O.D. - The Strike lyrics

[Intro] n***a let's go n***a! Lets get it in, (swag) I'm gonna get it in, sh** gonna be craving sh** gonna get crate, extra pills n***a, extra pills Word up, that f**ing real Extra pills, extra pills motherf**er! (Time to show these motherf**ers once And for all) Ay yo Reaper, get 'em! [Verse 1, Jay Reaper] Ay yo, of course I'm the big fat boss in this f** Rick Ross I got the force of a rhinoceros I'm cautious with awesomeness n***as start horsing it Mother f**, I'ma drag you to corcuses Our power like the parliament, power to the people To the cowards, to the heart of men Arm and a leg is what it takes to be a part of this Arsenic arsenist I'ma 'bout to start some sh** like Martin Laurence did So, we waiting by your door step, in a Corvette I got a big buck knife and a sore head And I'm f**in' pissed Cutting n***as up, a limp and leave with a lisp, now we off the list Dump dadda, body dumped in Nevada Bloody blue calla crimes, n***as say halla State of Nirvana, only f** with the enlightened ones We the Titan Sons, what you fear that's what I'll become Most definite I'm sicker than the lepresis Well equipped, devils kid, exorcist, sell a b**h Open up the gate and step foot into my hellish pit Do it Reveren Just for the hell of it! [Verse 2, Dopey Rotten] So, your girlfriends pregnant? Get ready for abortion Kicked her in the tummy, now she's gonna say we lost 'em You think its tragic, but I say it's awesome You can count on D.O.D and me to get the job done Your the lost one never to be found again Oh, your parents think now will this ever end The answers no, cuz I'm only here to torment Now your sons dead, text message, I press send Guess what, into hell I will descend Just to meet up with my friends so, we are evil in the end Even lethal with a pen, I be slaying many men And every now and then I make sure there's a dead end [Verse 3, Jay Reaper] Any rapper out there who dare to compare Well I kick some stairs Will get (striked, motherf**er!) Any half a** n***a with a plan to get Bigga Dope, D.O.D did it, cuz we (strike motherf**er!) We the punks getting drunk, getting high off the skunk While we jump to the funk, cuz we (strike motherf**er!) Now we don't follow, no hype motherf**ers That's cuz we strike motherf**ers [Verse 4, Skits Vicious] You disappear with no trace in the cold days In a storm rave with a blanket of snow flakes Sleep tight, there's a whole life after d**h, ahead of you When I strike you go back to bed I reminisce on what my dad once said If words don't affect them, smash their heads That's why I keep a crowbar inside the shed And makes sure I ain't caught when my hands turn red Sometimes it just feels like we're the last ones left That ain't f**ing swag boy, you f*gs, yeah you heard me I took over rap and I ain't half way thirty Swallowing the scene, like a half dead kirby Gangsta or nerdy, there is no equivalent We struck the game with a force that is militant I ain't fly but I spit fire I might fly in a spit fire, blast at you dick writers Choke you out with a thick wire, oh yeah Its time for the blow torch and pliers again Hit 'em with a strike till the black out Then bail with the dough and return to the crack house