La Cosa Nostra - Fuck Tony Montana (ft. B-Real & Sick Jacken, DJ Lethal production) | Текст песни

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• La Cosa Nostra
• Fuck Tony Montana (ft. B-Real & Sick Jacken, DJ Lethal production)

[Verse 1: Ill Bill]

Fuck Tony Montana, we kill kids, if he did he’d still be alive
Al Pacino fucked up twice
I’m a vet but Benny Blonco ain’t taking my life
I might end up on the beach with my seed in my wife
One last hustle, last hoorah, move this last bundle
I caught bodies out here, homie, y’all can’t fumble
Most of my felonies are legendary
That’s why I put most of my enemies in cemeteries
I seen visions from beyond the grave burning in Hell
Screaming in pain to God begging to be saved
This is purgatory, another first degree murder story
They took my kindness for a weakness and turned it on me
That’s when I blacked out, pulling triggers like I was cracked out
Eyes bugging out my head tapped out
Schized the fuck out, loced out, coked out
Shinied up, left you soaked the fuck up and smoked out

[Verse 2: Everlast]

Fuck a motherless child from a penniless home
I’m an heartless lion with an iron-jaw bone
I’m no Al Capone or Corelone
But I’ve been known to put a hit out on the microphone
Fuck your time zone, fuck your area code
I’ll detonate my payload and watch it explode
It’s a gangster boogie, it’s a soldier’s hustle
Little bang take big bank if it got muscle
Drugs, money, sex, revolution is next
This ain’t strong-armed robbery, we got a small armory
Fuck cracks and Glocks, we shooting back at the cops
Deep undercover like we running black ops
Battle cry singing, you’re on my dick swinging
Ain’t nobody fucking with this drama I’m bringing
Some men are king and some men are peasants
So come kiss the ring, bow down to the king

[Verse 3: Sick Jacken]

I’m from the double S till I drop
I rep the bubble vest with a Glock
My trouble stem from all the death on my block
The meth and the rock got zombie armies set to pop
Jail cells are funeral plots, they’re stressed in a box
Sick Side harmony is like Jews and Arabs in bombing sprees
My hood’s the Gaza Strip, this raw shit’s a part of me
A cult following martyrs me, street life is haunting me constantly
Thinking cops with the friction are trying to slaughter me
A killer’s lottery is roulette, not on himself
That’s when Russians test the Mexicans and see who’s next
Hit the block and you’ll catch two Techs
Nevermind where you’re from, we’re reacting cause we preview death
Drive-by murder hit with a live burner
You try to shake a barrel to buck, it’s not heard of
You are not everlasting, get slain by Ill Bill
One lethal dose of pain and get left on the hill

[Verse 4: B-Real]

There’s so many ways to hustle man, I got em all locked
If you think about touching mine, the hammer’s on cocked
Got my mind on my money and my money on my mind
We never stop the hustle, get the paper and fly
That’s life in the city, shit is gritty, no it ain’t pretty
But we on the grind, homie if you ain’t rolling with me
When you against you just an enemy that might be a cancer
So then we’re searching to remove your ass, ain’t taking no chances
In the darkest places ones with the unknown faces
Cause fire places in hearts of the rebels you hating
You better take a look and recognise the monster created
I think we gotta choke em, we just elevated to hatred
What you know about survival? Ever struggle to eat?
What you know about the poverty? Ever live on the street?
When there ain’t no opportunity trying to make ends meet
Then you become what they fear but they fear the elite

[Verse 5: Slaine]

Yeah, I’m a DMS soldier, EMS hold you
Now you’re knocked the fuck out, you need a rest I told you
Homie you don’t walk with a lean on my shoulder
Scheming on your dollar, fiending for a boulder
Blue-eyed devil spilling semen on your culture
Who am I to revel? What I’m being is a vulture
On both coasts with the toast to roast you
My soul’s so close to approaching hopeless
Flows so dope I do coke to focus
The angel with the dust so the smoke is smoking
You

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