Secret Service Lyrics - Souls Of Mischief

[conversation intro - speakers uncredited] 

Niggaz trippin smokin all this weed and shit man 

You know when it jump we gon' need our mind and bodies ready boy 

Nigga, nigga, ain't nuttin jumpin man 

Foooool, I got my glock nigga my calico 

Boy even a little deuce-deuce 

Nigga, what that mean to po-po? 

Fool, rocket launchers, fool po-po they some zarks 

They ain't runnin up on the turf nigga 

Nigga they got planes, nigga tanks, nigga bombs 

Ahh fuck them fools nigga 

Wipe out yo' whole hood 

But I'd take care of all them fools nigga 

I got down motherfuckers here nigga 

Man, nigga, ain't nobody mo' down they deep nigga 

You think you deeper than them? they deep nigga! 

Ahh nigga 

They got everythang! 

What, oh shit, wait - what the fuck is that? 

{*three big explosions*} 

[a-plus] 

Yeah, I clean my weapon fo' times a day 

I'm with the devil-est, yes the world's mine to slay 

I sipped wine with jay-hoover 

I can make you a murder victim 

Say some nigga dope server licked him (I didn't do it) 

A third of income that I get is enough 

To never sweat and I forget them dirty niggaz I snuffed 

Yeah you figure your tough, them coons be livin trife 

With they civil rights, I got yo' midas in my pistol sights 

You try to loot and think you post hard 

I got the coast guard, get ghost cause folks scarre 

With my flame-thrower - you're lame yoda, slaveholder 

Got a brain fo' ya, leave a poseur, slave told ya 

Totin glocks with laser scopes 

Watch the slayer folks watch for my cops (with major doe) 

Forget your vest, cause I'm bustin your chest 

Gettin checks and medals sayin agent plus is the best 

Yeah, I do bribes, some people front and say no 

They can play though, not like them czechs in sarajevo 

I got a family but I'm still that mean 

I gotta feel that green - agent massey, how'd you kill that king? 

[tajai] 

I did it slickly, put a knife in his kidney 

And sent him to bliss - made it look like some terrorists 

The heir to his throne, eight years old 

I left his back blown up, for that I get the fat bonus 

So the cadillac's on once I get back home 

But there's the mobile - plus the fax with my target profile 

Yo, I blow up a church if I gotta 

Orders from the top it don't stop til I gotcha, yeah 

And when I do best to believe ya through 

Cause we do not take prisoners in the good old u s of a 

Too much red tape to mas-sey 

Plus the press say what they want to now-a-days 

I'm gettin medals, for smart-bombin ghettos 

Seven figure payroll, give you wings and a halo 

We run things, so lay low, keepin paid 

Those attempts to uprise we blow ya spot sky high 

And bury ya - cause the lessa, you're the merrier 

Comin soon a new shoppin mall if you don't bear 

With the program - cold and callous, no man 

Women, or child is safe (why? ) cause we the wildest 

{chorus - repeat 2x} 

They got the fbi, cia, 

Atf, dea, big guns for pay 

Yeah, plus them armed forces man them fools don't play 

And the coppers that you see everyday