[Intro: Snoop Dogg & Kurupt]
Yeah
Yeah, what's up, my nigga?
It's the big homeboy Snoop Dogg
And you know, the streets is a motherfucker
D.P.G.C., you know
Representin' to the fullest–like that there
You know
Organized madness
The young Gottstra, hah-ha
Young Frank Sinatra, bitch
[Chorus: Kurupt]
I call, I call shots 'round here
Tell who to pop and who not to pop 'round here
Slow down down here, don't make too much noise (noise, noise...)
You know who runs the blocks 'round here
(I call), (I call), (I call), I call shots 'round here
Tell who to pop and who not to pop 'round here
Slow down down here, don't make too much noise (noise, noise...)
You know who runs the blocks round 'here ('round here)
[Verse 1: Kurupt]
Psychosomatic, it's automatic static
Catatonic, supersonic, bubonic chronic addict
Astrononimcal in the Thunderdome center
In the depths of the dungeon, dangerous, dastardly
Catastrophes, metamorphosize into a pit
Tyranno-Don, crackin' the bricks on the walls
Camouflage–on the side of the livest
'Bout to put somethin' up in that could ride
It's time for–World War III, mothafucker!
You know me – Young Got-ti, muhfucker!
I holds the microphone like a grudge
In the 'llac, laid back, so back the fuck up
This might give you a heart attack
It's real simple – can't get mo' simple than that (than that...)
[Chorus: Kurupt]
I call, I call shots 'round here
Tell who to pop and who not to pop 'round here
Slow down down here, don't make too much noise
You know who runs the blocks 'round here ('round here)
(I call), (I call), (I call), I call shots 'round here
Tell who to pop and who not to pop 'round here
Slow down down here, don't make too much noise
You know who runs the blocks round 'here ('round here)
[Verse 2: Kurupt]
The tactical acrobatical automatic
Automatically psychosomatics is guided verbally, guidance–
Visually erotic, Super like the Sonics
Potent like gin and tonic being injected through the veins
With double dosage of liquid chronic (...WHAT?!?)
Colombian flake, the top rate, irate, lost mental state stallion –
I want about a million or more
Of y'all fools to come back and get some more
You could tell a gangsta soon as he come in the door
He won't wear Calvin Klein, he won't wear velour
He got some Cortez or some Converse on
All-Stars, G'd from the hat to the floor
You can miss me, I'm probably chillin' up in Mississippi
Or Poughkeepsie, or Baton Rouge guzzlin' whiskey
I'm a walkin' franchise, and I wanna get paid
Get dropped, mopped, and stomped like a parade
Persuasion – phase three of the invasion
I gots to break loose, 'cause I'm feelin 'caged in
Loose in the jungle, blaze a botanical garden up
Nowadays, niggas ain't hard enough
To bombard and Bogart spots like these
Renegade revolutionary infiltries
I'll bet a thousand to one, you're never gonna make it
You're never gonna get it, y'all can't fuck wit' us
Put it together – our squad 1999 Mod Squad
Universal Soldiers, I thought I told ya
[Chorus: Kurupt]
I call, I call shots 'round here
Tell who to pop and who not to pop 'round here
Slow down down here, don't make too much noise
You know who runs the blocks 'round here
(I call), (I call), (I call), I call shots 'round here
Tell who to pop and who not to pop 'round here
Slow down down here, don't make too much noise
You know who runs the blocks round 'here ('round here)
[Verse 3: Roscoe]
I'm a chart smasher, the youngest gangsta rapper
Spectacular, chrome 38 packer
Money stacker, t-shirt Cackalack'a
Verbal predator, fake rap attacker
Gotti the jawbreaker, Roscoe the back-cracker
Money makin', we smart like computer hackers
I came in this game with plans to get it mastered
My enemies feel the wrath of my rapture
No escapin' without instantaneous capture
Don't be upset when me and the homies jack ya
'Cause we straightjacket – if I say it's on, it's crackin'
Young thugs, from Y.A., we make it happen
Swear y'all can see me, but that's just like seeing Elvis
I grab a cricket bat and crack a nigga 'cross the pelvis
My rhymes is dangerous, hazardous to health
I make a nigga murder 20 kids then cap his own self
Who am I? The incorrigible lyrical miracle
It's horrible yet hysterical the way I'll embarrass you
See me on the streets, walk by, and I just stare at you
Tough talk, when there's bullets flying through the air at you
Test your chest, nigga? One less nigga
Me and Kurupt share two gats and one vest, nigga
We astronomical, phenomenal, magical, mathematical
Taking your first-born as collateral!
[Outro: Kurupt]
I call, I call shots 'round here
READ MORE ABOUT KURUPT
