The Russian Mafia

Dope, money, stacked high on elongated tables
Arabian Stallions concealed in stables  
Money, lavish mansions, expensive cars to drive  
Corruption of greed, political purchased undercover lies  
Yachts to sail the high seas  
A family generation paid off from its dark legacies  
  
Gun toting, no one talks  
Handcuffs snapped, the same day the guilty walks  
John Gotti, the Godfather has come and gone  
Another crime syndicated family, singing the remnants of his atrocious songs  
Drug turf wars fought on the mean streets  
Found in the dark, unstrapped, bullet you meet  
Russian Drug Cartel, so what you gonna do  
FBI Agent undercover, and coming for you  
Glock, 357, oh yeah let me grab my automatic 22  
   
Mission ordained by law, cannot stop  
Now shaking hands with the boys maxing at the top  
Clock counting down, tick tock  
Ambushed, part of the game, my burner pops  
Buck em  
Fuck em  
Concrete pouring, tuck em  
   
Killings without feelings  
Initiation, now one of them, badge you still defend  
Blood on your hands, emotions no longer you pretend  
Kingpin’s number one runner  
His point and shoot gunner  
Briefcase, deals, exchange of money  
Setup destination feels quite funny  
   
Warehouse attendees arrested and handcuffed    
Task Force shakedown, on thee up and up    
Drug operation brought down on Sunday  
A snitch will pay, an intended hit to slay  
Mafia family inner circle, all released on Monday be that it may  
Power within the system is blind  
Drugs, money, it moves on the government’s time  
DEA, FBI, fighting the war on drugs  
Nope, its business related and operated by government paid thugs