Artist: The Syndicate f/ Ill Knob, Trigg-nomm
Album:  Wu-Syndicate
Song:   Bust a Slug
Typed by: Tha Masta

[Intro]
Tonight, it's on, shit is bangin
Trig', what? Huh? You lookin for me?
I'm tired of this shit, what?
MMO, y'all gon get it and Wu-Syndicate
You got a wack album, you got a wack life
We got it on over here, you've got to see
what I see, you must be, comin out
MMO

[Chorus: Trigg-nomm]
We famous decorators
Outlaws with the force with the Money Makers
Wu-Tang when we bang we be regulators
Player haters can't play us cuz the thugs obey us
Bust a slug to save us

[Joe Mafia]
Straight missle, pulse gristle, snapper crime
Poppin tops off of Anaheims, tropic refined
Extorton air time, imported from the Mason-Dixon Line
Look at my frigid eyes, fake fucks describe
Slap em paralyze, analyze the lies
Kinetic, my word is all I have, slaughter trash
Monster Mash, half ass on the war path
Suffer land, give a fuck grand, crashin the Pan Am
My squad Van Dammed, this shit was sun tanned, VA so tanned
Without the Beanie rap, who? Hoodini rap
Musolini stack, Lamborghini crash, kiss the Genie lamp
Henney big, excellency, no fake shit, wrong recipe
War speciality, meet the headless heat

[Trigg-nomm]
Recognize, direct from them cats that fantasize
It's that nigga Trigga, Medallion Isle drug dealer
I slaughter pace on the reels, no more dough waste
This paper chase got me in the eyes of snakes
Brutalize projects, caught up with the fake
True villain, when I vacate I'm Cold Chillin
Niggaz spillin, picture the man, ice grillin
Gats with the muffle, groove on with my hustle
For 25 years of tears and no fears
Money Makers, Wu-Syndicate takin it, yeah
Let it be clear, Medallion Isle, we foul
Klik Ga Bow move man, woman and child
It's the swarm, Russ Prez, Smokin', and Storm
Far from norm, life legacy live long
Represent, I reside in eternal torment
Often survivors of abortion, lampin in coffins
Forcin, yea, wrap your tear in extortions
Yea, big before I return hit the porcellain

[Ill Knob]
The K, the G, the B, Ill Knob bring the ruckus
Cuz I don't got no time for these faggots
They frontin, but I'm about to break them out the havoc with the fire
I battle water, what you order?
You would run far from the slaughter
I'm gunnin out whoever's in the order
The hitch out, no bitch out
I'm good and plenty, nigga get ya rich out
Or nigga ditch out, for ya self and ya family
Cuz I don't want nobody layin handin me
I'm livin life, profanity, insanity
Because of my fame, insane
When I'm rockin on the block, I've got to push my cane
Got to live in this life, baby times is trife
Have to be on my side if you claim my wife
No knife come between us, married to my Syndicate
Niggaz see this, playa hate and try to be this
It's hard to be this and you don't want to get dissed
When you ballin up ya fist, you don't wanted to be missed
Buck! Buck! Back! Fuck! What the fuck?

[Myalansky]
This is jail, 3 burners made Tina Turner dance
Probably, you kidin me? Only my man bust side to me
I was gotta be slicin the pot, if I divide it by 3
Dicks for them niggaz that snitch, whoever shot at me
All up in my shit, pussies plottin 3 days to about a week
Wu-Synidcate most ampitated across the E-N-T
Entire, niggaz collapse and raid the empire
Where his stash at? Cryin, he broke, a damn liar
Yolk for the smoke, back room, Medallion man croke
Now yo, no joke, take it, no damn moat
Joe lock the door, pussy stay down, lay down
Yo, Napoleon get the duct tape, cave him for cash flow
Biography, million my peers get painted robbery
A to Z encyclopedia, color photography
Penitentiary rhymes, salt get they ass took
Street turn, patiently speakin, you know the math
Make bitch niggaz ballerina, pull up they too-too
Smacked up in front of ya bra', what his man do?
Eyes glued to my right hand, don't rush me
What that bitch scream, runnin thru traffic like lightnin?
Fell, loud boss screamin, yellin for wifie
You see that shit, another hit, Wu-Syndicate
Myalansky, Joe Mafia and Napoleon
Corleone, Marlon Brando rap, ya roly on
'97 bar, tighten storm door, war is on
'98, a twisted rate, kidnap and solemnly swore
To my boy, give my last call, pass the shoe horn
Don't shoe guys, come, we move on, told you must prove on
3 on ya bally cleaner, who clapped? Sally seen her
Black '97 beamer, bitch niggaz ballerina

They just dance

[Chorus 3X]

[Outro: Trigg-nomm]
Famous decorators, yea, yea
Poison Clan... *echo*