[Featuring Dr. Dre B Real]
[Dr. Dre]
I spark like a blunt's tip somethin cavi
Makin Greene like Mitch gives rap vocals dispatch
With every attempt to have this game shook up
When Dre cook up every thug look up
Chronic got me on tilt eyes bloodshot heavy built
Lay a nigga out like quilt clear to gill
I rock for rollers from lowriders to Henny toasters
Cut off dead weight to keep my formulas kosher
Accept no imitations Dre losin his stack
Is slim as chances, of Michael Jackson gettin his black fans back
My reputation's like a Tec-9
Knock out the best in a circle, three minutes wreck time
See the hand is faster than the eye can chase it
Dre, B-Real, Soul Assassins got potential buttons activated
No illusion I have you caught up in the rapture
Executive decisions from the motherfucking puppet masters
[B-Real]
You are the puppet, I pull your string, I'm makin moves
I'm the master, causing you to do what you do
(repeat 4X)
[Dre]
Puppet masters
(repeat 2X)
[B-Real]
We're pullin strings, killin kings
countin all pinky rings, seizin control of the whole game
I took a pull from the blunt, inhaled it
blew the smoke from my lungs into the world of hip-hop
Civilians turn into soldiers by the millions
Assassins, we multiply, by the masses
Masters of the game (checkmate nigga!) every move you make
Through manipulation is the move I choose for you to take
You see, what I want you to see
And you turn into whatever I want you to be
Whatever it be, enemy or ally
The Aftermath results in Soul Assassins, worldwide
From coast to coast, I got soldiers on post
Injectin you, with the high funk overdose
Dre and the Hill, stayin Real
