R.O.B.

(The Cray Twins were criminal aristocrats
But they grew up in London's impoverished East End
Using brutality they crawled their way out
They wanted to conquer London's West End
Where there were rich pickings to be had
As they climbed the ladder of success
Each step was accompanied by the generous use of violence
And the money kept rolling in
The genius lay in the application of violence
And the money kept rolling in...)
South Bronx, East Bronx
Kingsbridge, Fordham Road
Just test me you gon' end up in the Bronx river, let 'em float
Glock is always thirsty for a kill it's time to lock 'n load
We down with the shits, call dat 187-KILL-A-HOE
Diggin' like I'm Project Pat, cause you gon' end up in a ditch
That hooded figure to ya' 6 and another glock up in a ribs
Muzzle kinda sweet, it's always down to kiss a nigga lips (Bro?)
Niggas soft they begging for they death, they folding really quick
Just doin' what I do just to get my payday
Stashing all these funds, finna live my heyday
Send 'em to the skies, chopper gets em there the same day
Banished 'em to hell, you been damned it ain't no mayday
Unidentified, never let a witness name names
Trouble on the double, give a little then I take-take
Glock set to preheat cook and then I bake-bake
Load with them painkillers, kill to take away pain
Quick to pull the trigger I don't want them feds to hear a peep
We more than meets the eye my niggas in the shadows rollin' deep
We donned in black we never slack, maintain the hustle on the street
A killer killin' killas pockets hungry preying on the weak
You've met your makers at last
Between me and my money can you pass that?
Pockets full but hungry, got desires like a fat cat
Test the wrath of God, I said y'all nigs are like my lab rats
Give a nigga rest and then I put 'em in a napsack
(The genius lay in the application of violence
And the money kept rolling in
And the money kept rolling in...)