Cry

[Verse 1: T-Rock]
Lord Infamous hit me up and I'm back in here
So it's the end for you niggas like an acronym
We roll deeper than my fans at a colosseum
Niggas get buried and mortified in a mausoleum
Feel the wrath of a nigga rapidly blastin' ya
My scavengers will leave you leakin' like a dirty cadaver
This is armagheddon, souls cry, it's a massacre
Protect yo neck, I'm goin' for the shit like I was dracula

[Verse 2: II Tone]
I ain't never liked to follow, so I always been a leader
Learn to rock it up and (?) the block and stank my Velveeta
Lord down that I'm gone, what the fuck you mean (?)
Got a house full of guns, better pray for all yo sin
Heart cold like a freezer cause my house hot as hell
Shit, I'm doin' what I'm doin', give a fuck about jail
Everybody got a pound, that's a roadtrip, better follow
If you cross Black Rain you'll never see tomorrow

[Verse 3: Mac Montese]
You know we show off so everytime I go off
I crack yo fuckin' head if you think that I'm a hoe dog
I'm with my road dogs, that's II Tone and T-Rock
And Infamous be on some more shit, he likes to ball off
Black Rain take change away from all these damn lames
And if you wanna play games
We leave yo ass with blood stains
You really wanna try, better be ready for homicide
I'm on a mission and get ya like I play them (?) suicide

[Verse 4: Slim Money]
I ain't scared, I ain't scared, I'm a (?) scared
Niggas claim to be real when they really doin' (?)
It's hard to be a angel when you surrounded by demons
Niggas tryin' to do me pain and knowin' I'm a lyrical genius
Call me ... on this road trail blaze
Catch me at the white house, outside the (?)
Get a dose of my world rage, turn yo shit to a (?)
Whole click murderous, you don't wanna fuck with us

[Verse 5: Big Cheese]

[Verse 6: Lord Infamous]
BLAY!
Fill yo bitch with this snow yo, pump her like some petrol
Dick hard as (?), nympho on some techno
Coke, snow, dope, blow, spear nose, pitch fork
Volcanic, satanic, manic flow, overdose
Trigger finger steroid flex bitch, pressure vest
Give a fuck less, Wild West with a Smith & Wess'
Butcher with a hooker, give yo mammy some of that sugar
I'm the man they call the boogy, call me the Jr. full of booger sugar