[Ghostface Killah] Yeah, yo, aiyo these duffel bag niggas is lame hoes, I flame those Your papa should of left you a stain on clothes I rock heavy metal, eighteen karats or better Blue steel or Beretta, I'mma stack that feta Guacamole, my shit is fat, I call it rolly polly Niggas is screaming like "There goes Tony, moly!" The baddest bitches walking two steps behind me Cuz the God's robes flaring out, shit I don't care about One false move on the kid, I'm airing out Dumping, pellets be hop, skipping and jumping With the automatic shotgun, hand on the pumping Dung-dung! Watch your whole body flop And wild the fuck out, I'm like a bull in a China shop Beastie, I can walk on cut glass, I bust ass Niggas better cover they face or get slashed Or see me and your granny in your yard, getting trashed
[Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs] Aiyo, back out, give 'em the whole thing, black out Squeezin' til it's spring break, nigga, black out You run out of bullets, just swing, nigga, black out Don't give a fuck about a thing, nigga, black out
[Lil' Fame] I chant warrior's songs for all my warriors gone Spilled the blood, sweat and tears, ya'll just call it a song Yes I'm, highly explosive, yes I'm, something ferocious Niggas fucking with my nerves like multiple sclerosis What time, and you get your food ate, give 'em a buck and a half Across the face, and scrape the plate I'll lift your muthafuckin' hood up, like a mechanic And leave you layin' for life, in your hammock, God damn it This is marksmen
[Billy Danze] My niggas is prone to black out Double handed out the Chevrolet, until it maxs out Mo P's is g's, these niggas tap out Buck-a-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck, push your back out If you don't know what that's bout, pack up and stab out Make a decision or deal with conditions, when I spaz out Unload, reload, unload, reload Hand 'em a couple more, and keep a couple for the road
[Chorus 2X]
[Pharoahe Monch] Pull out the ratchet, this is not rap The rap shit is liver then Superfly saliva when the Mack spit That, raat, tip-tip-tip-tip-tip tap shit That you cannot stick to landing like Gaby Douglas when you back flip My hammer dance that make you niggas do the running man Seventy seven blackout, Berkowitz, Son of Sam Understand what you working with is word perfect The earth surface is profilic circuit, breaker-breaker circuits Enter your information, we blacks out Spontaneous combustion, instantaneous identification Pop your melon like Gallagher, you won't survive Psychopath with a silencer, my caliber is forty five Tumultuous tragedy, infamous, infamy These agree the statistics, will increase exponentially Potentially, my brain is probably twisted This auto shotty lifted your body and dropped it like a molly kid shit