Delinquent

<br>(Repeat through intro)<br>Star Trak, Star Trak - Star Trak<br>[Intro: Pharrell Williams]<br>Lord I`ve seen so many things<br>That make me wonder why<br>But if the Fettaralis comes to take my life<br>Just give me the wings to fly<br>And I`ll say, to myself, yeah<br>What a wonderful..<br><br>[Rosco P. Coldchain]<br>Well well well, why don`t you you roll your window down<br>I want you to see this<br><br>[Chorus]<br>[PW:] When a nigga is delinquent with cash in hand<br> Even if it`s just a couple of grams<br>[RC:] Nigga do what I do, nigga drop that motherfucker<br> Pop that motherfucker!<br><br>[Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain]<br>I done squeezed more guns than Charleton Heston<br>And if you niggaz mouths persist to run on, I`m a continue to step on<br>Every limb on, every inch of yo body<br>You better hope the outlaw better never go broke<br>You fuck around you be the one being smacked around wit a gun<br>No joke slick, I`ll shoot your papa and tie your mama up<br>Whoop out an eight and pull out a straight, bitch take a hit of this coke<br>Now, I advise you niggaz to chill<br>My percentile rises in the battle field<br>Your gangsta rating declining when it`s time to kill<br>You rewindin, is it Rosco`s rounds you feel?<br>Your eyes blinded, not from the ice but the light from my steel<br>Ya`ll niggaz never seen real bread<br>The Stroheman type that buy car, brick<br>Home and bikes, all at the same time I haven`t either<br>Basically what I`m saying I`ll jam you, one Desert Eagle<br>Uhh, coat change Jack!<br><br>[Chorus] (2x)<br><br>[Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain]<br>Why did the dickhead cross the road?<br>Man I hit `em with a 12 gauge<br>And I didn`t give him a chance to reload<br>That`s what inexperienced gangstas get for playing a role<br>You hatin on my dough?<br>Look now there goes an angel taking your soul<br>Fuck you, your fun, and your 4.6<br>I can push a renter, peel `em wit guns and still be the shit<br>It`ll be nice to be rich, but I`d rather be well off<br>A half a pile raw, house in Conshohocken<br>In a rimmed Impala I roll with thugs and thieves<br>Not the petty kind but the ones that`ll make you get on your knees<br>And pursaude you with their thundering pound<br>To give up your valuables or they gunning you down<br>I wanna leave the pullitzers even though you cooperated<br>They still letting off rounds<br>Now in your own matter you drown<br>Greed and insanity drove me to start killing you clowns<br>41 caliber slugs stuck in your bladder now<br>Clipse, Rosco P. - we platinum bound<br><br>[Chorus] (2x)<br><br>[Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain]<br>You niggaz would love to see me gone<br>In a plastic bag ligaments torn<br>But bitch I pop more niggaz than I pop Perkisets<br>Thump on you so hard I`ll make it seem like<br>Even if you were strapped your hammer just ain`t working right<br>Bullets coming in flurries, fiends coming in a hurry<br>At a quarter to four in the morning, knocking at my crackhouse door<br>Neighbors waking up yawning, secretly calling the police<br>Draw`n, and that fact I`m ignorin<br>Like I`m not running a 24-Hour drugstore<br>Like I ain`t got enough guns to take on an armed force<br>Remmington will leave ya mind simmering<br>In a fine blood sauce when I`m pissed off<br>Which is all the time so you better get lost<br>I ain`t got a fine line<br>These slugs will leave ya twitching like a schitz` and smoke his jaw<br>You dealing with a repeat feloner<br>If we can`t see eye to eye, I`m a sea level ya<br>And I mean that, deado<br><br>[Chorus]