(feat. Phats Bossilini, Mad Max, Tech N9ne, Poppa LQ, Gov)

[CHORUS]

I got some killers on the payroll, and they know
When it's time to handle business, ^!$$%, lay low


[Phats Bossi]
Money to double, still in the struggle, stuck to my hustle
We all fight back like maniacs with broke knuckles

It's mo' trouble cause now we seein you ^!$$%s
Paint a vivid-ass picture, Boss spittin the scriptures
^!$$%, I'm Bossi, Bosslin done turned to cash fiend

I straight pop codeine and drink gasoline
What what, I'm too sick for y'all
Tatted with dragons till I fall, givin dick to y'all

In this pitfall I'm on the grind for mine
My people choose a life of crime, pistol-pushin with nines
On the payroll, apply the pressure when we say so

My troops turn wacko, shoot through your backdo'
My life real, seen a man die slow
And I still can't sleep, sweatin bullets fo' sho'

So don't push me, Boss is one tough cookie
My team Regime, pumpin them shots out a hooptie


[Mad Max]
Who down to rock with the murder plot of a cop killer
Drop ^!$$%s, spillin they brains, rollin with hot ^!$$%s

Rot with a club to your face for tryin to rock with us
Straight up, get razorblade-cut for $#&@in with us
Regime superiors, Max Ju spit rhymes, strip mine interior

Rippin your %#@! imperial, kill ^!$$%s' material
My whole crew ain't fearin ya, Mad Max the High Priest
I got some real killer mutha$#&@as behind me

And I be obviously on top of things
With the Regime I'm too clean, make it a murder scene
Glocks and murder beam, ^!$$%s ain't never heard of me

Burnin em to the third degree, leavin ^!$$%s in the infirmary
Wait for recoupin, still choosin your brain, stupid
The Dragon recruited real ^!$$%s for thug music

So peep game and next time you speak my name
Be prepared for incoming from the heat of the flame
Regime


[CHORUS]


[Tech N9ne]
Regime Killer number one, I'm back up in this (*##$ with Yukmeez
On the payroll so I spray those foes, make you get on your knees

For the pesos Tech N9na [????] great holes with these
You stay yellin you'se a merely killer for the cheese, ^!$$% please
Awfully sick, he tryin to $#&@, so off with his dick

Can't floss and he blitzed, molotow in his lips
Tossin his dick in a box of chocolates and walk in his ship
Talk to his (*##$ and whisper (he loved you) softer to kiss

(He bows down) You get [????] N9ne ????
(We wild now) You wanna rewind mine, I'm prime time
Qwest Records tryin to hold a ^!$$% back

So I [????] Saafir and tellin me [????] get his %#@! back
Off with their heads, let them hang high
Caught in their beds, let it [????] die

Tech Neen, I'm a fiend for strings by Mike Dean
For the green I damage spleens, then I scream "Regime!"


[Poppa LQ]
Let's take a out-of-town trip with a thousand crips
With a thousand A.K.'s and a thousand clips

No 50 Cent can come to Cali and rob nobody
Cause gees catch and send his $$# back a cold body
Young guns'll lay ya down regardless who you are

%#@!, we make a livin out of extortin you stars
Robbin you for your jewelry, snatchin you out your cars
Poverty's a plague, I rob before I beg

But you don't expect me to score, times are hard
You're broke but you're scared to steal and break a law
You need not worry 'bout me, I live it raw

A hustler with a cause, flippin paper, gotta ball
I had to crawl before I walked but now I'm standin tall on em
Lookin down on em, 'bout to drop my balls on em
It's time for platinum minin, military grindin
Right when these suckers [????] start declinin


[Governor Matic]
Yuk threw me on part 2
Regime Brick City ^!$$%s mobbin when we come through
^!$$%, the Governor got it sowed up, spots get blowed up

Funk Doc, Diesel Don, yo, them ^!$$%s even showed up
As I rolled up, the nine Glock get load up
For the hold-up, the new hundreds we fold up
Confiscate drugs, ^!$$%s' mouths get taped up
Kids get draped up and (*##$ up-slapped the make up

Then I take up all clothes, jewels and paper
You got 'cash money', but you don't wanna run the safe, ha?
^!$$%, don't play dumb, I'm steady gettin money from those that hold up
Used to drink weed tea, now my %#@! robust
Now hold up, car patrolled up

It was 12 Outsidaz in a two-door Toyota
We splatter brains over crack cocaine
In the court we still came to pay Judge Mills Lane
^!$$%, it's not a question
My uzi weighs a ton, 'll have you undressin
Like you was strippin down on Western

Killers on the payroll, pockets stay swoll
Hearts stay cold, that's why we's on payroll

[CHORUS]

Regime Life, ^!$$%s
Thug rituals

Regime Life
Thug Lord
Regime Life, ^!$$%

[Yukmouth]
Now where them toy soldiers at? There they go, right chea
Get them (*##$es, kill them ^!$$%s, there they go, watch it

Where them toy soldiers at? There they go, right chea
Keep them (*##$es, kill them ^!$$%s, there they go, watch it
Get that bitin-ass rapper, wanna-be actor
Fake non-playin Basketball ^!$$% that got dropped from the Raptors
I spit in your face and slap ya, boy
With a .38 kidnap ya, boy
Ductape and wrap ya, boy

[????] and flash ya, boy
Lascerate and trash ya, boy
Mash ya, boy, I hate Master P like Pastor Troy
Shame on that ^!$$% for tryin to steal a name from a ^!$$%
Ice Cream Man put flames to a ^!$$%
I figured by now that ^!$$% done been broke off some scrilla for stealin that %#@!
But until then I'm killin that (*##$

All you got is Snoop Dogg and Mystikal in your click
And all them other mutha$#&@as are like Mystikal-in your click
You're still in this %#@!, "$#&@ Yuk, I ain't feelin his %#@!'
But $#&@ you too, you fell off and I'm still in this (*##$
Willing to rip the $#&@in head off a villain that's sick
My raps burn like ghonorrhea, need penicillin to spit
The Thug Lord, Ayatollah, fire the flame

Rappers tired in the game, make em retire again
$#&@ gold, $#&@ platinum, ^!$$%, I did that %#@!
In '95 and '96, so what you did ain't %#@!
^!$$%s go triple platinum, ^!$$%, do some amazin %#@!
Some eyebrow-risin %#@! and quit hatin, ya (*##$
How the $#&@ you a mack when you beat down hoes?
At videos give a bad-ass (*##$ a bloody nose
^!$$%, ???? put you on in '84
You was a crackhead in dirty-ass clothes with dopefiend flows
Broke mutha$#&@a out livin on skid row
^!$$%, you from L.A., you ain't even from the Big O
This year them (*##$-ass ^!$$%s gon' get theirs
You swingin from my balls, why you down there smell my dick hairs
Ya (*##$
And Dru Down, the real Mack of the Year, ya (*##$-ass ^!$$%
Longevity that, huh
(*##$

[CHORUS]

Regime Life, ^!$$%
Ya (*##$!