Verbal Assassins

[Intro: Lounge Lo (Shawn Wigs)]
Yeah, it's Lounge Lo right here
Who said my dogs don't rock, you crazy?
Word up, ya'll know what time it is
(Wiganomics, I don't murder, I assassin) Tell 'em dunny! Tell 'em
O.T.F., here we go, Molly-Q, Wigs, my doola, huh, huh
Hit 'em, hit 'em, get 'em nigga!

[Chorus: Shawn Wigs]
Aiyo, I rush, wreck, supreme intellect
Talk with the dangerous slang, I'm high tech
Iron rods, swinging thirty eight and your ruger
Verbal assassins, it's murder one, doola
Verbal assassins, it's murder one, doola

[Shawn Wigs]
Aiyo, I talk strong, walk with my mic up in the hostler
Twenty one niggas, put slugs up inside the toaster
We red hot, slot machine money got spent
Stay bent in the JJ thirty with no tint
You crush diamonds, I keep two slugs in my socks
And rocks the size of golf balls in my watch
Thug paradise, nothing but guns
I'm putting my money in mutual funds, stocks and bonds
Firearms for the World War when it comes
Knowledge, we learn to build place with crumbs
It's the universal, ran through the block rock solid
Wave cap, doorag slang, we high gat
Iron rods, all over the mic like monkey bars
Felony charge, ran from the warrant squad

[Chorus]
[Molly-Q]
The Roman archer, S-1 marcher, Dutch master
Buck like Tampa, stomp the kids with the rompers
I warned ya, trigger happy blacks with napsacks
Stacked with auto-macks'll twist ya caps back black
Stuck with a shank, big bank is the motto
Dig back some model, who am I, come in a bottle
Chain snatch, rhyme rap root, towels of maps
Sometimes I fucked up, never looking back
Hold heat like Bahama, drama on my father
Run with bank robbers, and a fully bodied armor
Trench coat, Ferry boat, one too many toast
Got me starving for host, stay twisted like a rope

[Chorus]
[Shawn Wigs]
Yo, my whole empire, Strike Back like Luke Sky'
Me and Lounge, dunnied up with the dead eye
Red eye laser beam, lacerate your skin
Hot iron rods, my doolas is marching in
Murder material, real life serial killers
And drug dealers, guineas, taking hits for the Capo
Come with all colors, you know about Soprano
The nineteen sixty four, Cedron cigar
Scotch & Armarett at the bar, where Allah Kareem at?
Let the gat holla-holla, raw iron whistle and spit
Leave a mark on you counterfeits...

[Chorus]
[Outro: Lounge Lo]
Yo, let me hear that...