Artist: Tracey Lee f/ The Reepz
Album:  Many Facez
Song:   The Professionals

Intro:

[Sound Of Radio in the background]

[Sound Of Woman and Tray Lee in the background]

[Phone Rings]

Tray Lee:Hold On, Hold On... Wait a minute
              Yeah, Yeah, What's happenin'?

Phone:Tray yo, what's up? how's it going Tray?
           ByStorm business.
           Tell yo honey to go and listen.
           I need for you and the Reepz to put a hit
           out on the industry.
           You know my fee.  Wit a ten percent bonus
           if the job is complete within one day.
 
[Tray's woman complains]

Phone: Ay, yo Tray listen. I gotta bounce, listen Tray.
           I gotta bounce, my phone might be tapped, 
           you know my code, get back to me wit an 
           update.

Tray Lee: Word up, this serious business right here.
               Glad y'all could make it.

[Voices of approval from the Reepz]

Verse One:

TL:My niggaz, check this shit out, I just got off the phone
     wit Goose, he want the crew to put a hit out.

Reepz:On who?

TL:The industry and yo, it sounds legit, equipped, wit 
     infra-red and twenty mil to split.  But first we need
     a game plan that fits, ski masks, Tecs nigga wit
     unlimited clips.  Bulletproof vests, no let ups, lets
     rock son undebted, so boys I'll be the decoy, the
     first one to set it.

Reepz 1:Since Tray's the first one to set it, he can
             walk past the guards unprotected, set up
             shop, for the rest of us to wreck shit.  
             Meanwhile, I'll lace the basement with 
             basement placement of explosives. I see 
             four guards where the entourage started, 
             just pinpoint the target, so we can get
             started.

Reepz 2:Yo nigga, I'm all for it, map it, we can score
              it, I need three guns, and a soldier to stand
              by the door wit.  No bullshit, I loaded up my
              lyrics and two shotties in the barn from pop
              taped to my body.  I'm bustin' shots like it
              don't make sense, gettin' rid of all witnesses
              and evidence.

Reepz 3:I'm bout to shut it down, I need a round and a
             card, change of gear, arsenal status, the Ramada.
             Forties, fakes, takin' up space, reals get nada.
             Time to make it sicker than Italian Jim Carter.

TL:No doubt, I see we on the same page, shit is proper,
     so the operation starts in eighteen hundred hours.

Bridge One:

[Phone Rings]

TL:Yo goose this is Tray.

Phone:Yeah, what's my update?

TL:The Reepz will be joining me in this operation, 
     operation starts at six p.m., I expect results
     three hours from that time. Next time we speak,
     mission will be accomplished, and I expect cash
     upon execution.

Verse Two:

TL:Let's run it down,

     Firearms

R:Check

TL:Hollow Tips

R:Check

TL:Leather gloves and bombs pasting all the exits

R:Check

TL:ID strap with the PV in the back

R:Check, Check

TL:Let's set it off and put the plan into effect.
     Made a call and said, I begin to think wit all the 
     bosses. While I got this guys occupied, Borne,
     run up in they office.
     The four RNF files and shit like that, and take,
     anything that says they got us under contract.
     Since niggas are wired, this how it go, when you
     hear me make a move to leave the room, then 
     that's the signal.

R1:Now that we have the instructions, and the
     blueprints have been structured, it's time to do it.
     AV, chick, you set bombs, to defuse it, if they
     got confused wit, the plan just use it.  Take no
     prisoners, give no remorse.  Tray Lee kissed his
     cross and was off.

Bridge Two:

TL:Gentleman, so glad you could make it here this 
     evening.

Businessmen of the Industry:This better be good.

TL:The purpose, of this meeting here tonight, is so 
     that we can combine all our entities, and make
     one big music conglomerate.

BOTI:What?!  What the hell are you talkin' about?!

TL:Now, now, now. Before you act to hasty, just hear
     me out here. You're not being reasonable, you're
     not being...  I'll tell you what...

BOTI:Who the hell do you think you are?!

TL:I'm gonna step out for a second...

BOTI:You got a lotta mamushkas comin' in my 
         fuckin' office...

TL:Give you gentlemen time to ponder on the idea,
     and I'll be back for a decision.

BOTI:Conglomerate...Johnny, you follow that son of
         a bitch, I don't trust him one fuckin' bit.

Verse Three:
              
TL:Yo, that's the cue let's make it happen.

Walkie-Talkie:Tray walk towards the bathroom.

TL:What's the deal?

WT:Being followed.

TL: Oh, you spot'em?

WT:Yeah, I got'em.   
 
[Gunshot, and sound of pain]

TL:Good lookin' out.

R2:Yeah, no doubt, let's keep it movin', they heard
      the shots comin' in, pullin' out.  Let's sweat
      the scene like Colin Ferguson, I got the 
      documents, but if this nigga's dead, why the 
      fuck I'm hearin' shots?

R3:Busted out the exit, on some vexed shit, man,
     bullets sprayed I caught one in the shoulder
     blade.  I cocked the shot, he pulled the trigger
     bust my lyrics, had they heads bopped, mad
     niggaz in the hall droppin'.  Around the corner
     more niggaz tried to dead me, but they got 
     tooken' out, my raw style is too deadly.

TL:So what you need, yo clip empty?

R3:I got my designee wit one magazine plus a 
     bullet, that travels into ya.

R2:These niggaz is still comin, let's split together
     what we got and leave this fuckin' scene gunnin'.
     
TL:Word, thieves covered in blood, it's on son, no
      question, no time for hesitatin', fuck the 
      second guessin'.  Merely suggestin', the we
      leave these niggaz restin', so open up and 
      watch talons explode in they chest and, look
      out Borne...

[Gunshots]

TL:Yo, that's two down, ha, now that's a few now,
      I'm killin' all foes.  Time to reload...

R2:Okay, I am noted, it ain't a murder til' 
     she wrote it, kill or be killed, we got no other
     plans to go...

R3:Yeah, fuck a forfeit, I'ma put this fuckin' burn
     through they sternum and some more shit.

R2:Time to make moves, shots is ringin', leave 
     nobody standin', to see the courtroom and 
     start singin'.  Clip is almost empty, blood 
     drippin' down my chest, I got, two on scope
     Tray and Wall take out the rest.

[Gunshots]

TL:Yeah, got one.

WT:Get outta there, Get outta there...

TL:But I'm not done...

[Gunshot]

TL:Oh shit!  I've been shot, son.
     Hit in the shin, it's hard for a nigga to run.
     If I'm slowin' up, don't stop see, y'all niggaz
     jet without me.
   
R1:Look what this shit created, we almost out
     barely makin' it, bullets sprayed straight
     through Tray's leg, almost amputated it.
     Me and Fee was hit, half empty clips with
     intent to kill, and until the end, so we ain't 
     tryin' to quit, but stakes is high, so yo pie 
     get us outta this.

WT:Yo, it's obvious, hey I'm tired of this shit,
      now y'all niggaz hurry up, cuz these 
      niggaz ain't surrenderin'', leave the
      premises cuz I'm about to blow the building.

Bridge Three:
[Gunshots]
[Retalitory Gunshots]
[More Gunshots]
[More Retalitory Gunshots]
[Sounds of pain]
[Large Gunshots]

Verse Four:

R1:Shots heard was the code to detinate and 
     take more souls, my crew rock and tell
     from the bullets and it goes, once you,
     hire Professionals, shit explodes, you
     can tell by the damage that we do it shows.
     RNF be the clique stand for Real Nigga 
     Flows, death becomes to all those, who
     pose as foes.  When you hire professionals
     you know how it goes...

TL:So RNF push the button, send niggaz to the
     crossroads.

Voice:T minus five
                      four
                      three
                      two
                      one....

[Explosion]