[Verse One: Keith Murray]
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Haaah! (wooooooo!)
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Yeah, (hah, hah, hah, hah) L.O.D.
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Keith Murray, Def Squad
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Mista, Mista, Mista, Mista Smith
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You wanna hit? (You wanna hit?)
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Uhh, gimme an hour plus a pen and a pad
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Yo... I'm here to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
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And let my balls hang like I'm on a toilet takin a shit
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My style is all that, and a big bag of chips wit the dip
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Fuck all that sensuous shit
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I represent intellectual violence
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And leave your click holier than the Ten Commandments
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Like Redman I shift with tha ruck
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If ya if was a spliff we'd be all fucked up (Word up!)
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No need to ask you who is he, Son I get busy
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Scuff my Timbs on the boulevard of many ruff cities (Chicago, LA, any of them)
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I'll have to Norman Bate ya I love ta hate ya
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Cause youse a freak by nature
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Can't wait to face ya, mutilate ya
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Drink your style down straight wit no chaser (Word up!)
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My verbal combat's like a mini-Mac to your back
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As soon as one of you niggaz try to over react (BLAOW!)
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Tha L.O.D. love good confrontation or vamp (Word up!)
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Break your concentration, murder your camp
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For tha jealous, overzealous, we fellaz
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Blow the the spot like Branford Marsalis
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Niggaz comin through and actin wild
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Y'all commercial niggaz better have a Coke and a smile
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I SHOT YA!
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[Verse Two: Prodigy]
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Yo, I conversate wit many men, it's time to begin again
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Forgot what I already knew, aiyyo you hear me friend?
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Illuminati want my mind, soul, and my body
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Secret society, tryin to keep they eye on me
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But I'm stay incogni', in places they can't find me
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Make my moves strategically, the G.O.D.
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It's sorta similar but iller than a chess player
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I use my thinker, it coincides with my blinker
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While you wondered what we sayin on the records real
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Yeah you motherfuckin right kid you know the deal
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My Mobb is Infamous just like the fuckin title read
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You get back slapped so hard make ya nose bleed
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Some ---- kids feeling guilty bout the ----
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But you first baby girl so just face it (awright)
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But anyway, back on the real side of things
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My niggaz sling cracks and wear fat diamond rings
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Not only is it inside the songs that we sing (kid)
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Everything is real not just a song that we sing (word up, it's real)
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From my life to the paper (what), very accurately
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Give you all of my two so maybe you can three
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Prodigy will forever will S-H-I-N-E (shine baby, just shine)
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My shit attract millions like the moon attract the sea
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How dare you ever in your life walk past me
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Without acknowledgin this man as G-O-D
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I shot ya faggot ass
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[Verse Three: Fat Joe]
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Now who the fuck you think you talkin to, I pay dues I spray crews
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Look I'm Joey Crack, motherfuckers be like he's bad news
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Runnin this racket, from New York to Montego
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Slaughterin people, bring a ton of keys from Puerto Rico
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I'd rather be feared than loved because the fear lasts longer
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These bitch ass niggaz know we stronger
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Than these weaklings, seekin, for respect that ain't there
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Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air
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Tommy guns for fun, shotties for block parties
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While fresh lead heats up your insides like a fifth of Bacardi
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Call the ambulance, this man's wet
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Bullets cut him down from the root up just like a Gillette
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razor, which I keep hidden in my oral
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Ready to spatter, at any ad out, that wants to quarrel
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These feds want me for some tax evasion
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Now that the fact that somebody's gettin lucci that's not caucasian
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Bullets be blazin through these streets filled with torture (what the deal pop)
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Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Ceaser
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[Verse Four: Foxxy Brown]
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Thug niggaz give they minks to chinks
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To' down we sip drinks rockin minks, flashin rings and things (what the deal)
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Frontin hardcore deep inside the Jeep, mackin
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Doin my thing fly nigga you a Scarface king
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Bitches grab ya ta-ta's, get them niggaz for they chedda
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Fuck it, Gucci sweaters and Armani leathers
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Flossin rocks like the size of Fort Knox
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Four carats, the ice rocks, pussy bangin like Versace locs pops (what the deal)
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Want ta the creep, on the light raw ass cheeks
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| I'm sexin raw dog withou |
