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作词 : Brodus, Cartegena, Rios, Wolfe ... |
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Ready for war Joe, how you wanna blow they spot |
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I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop |
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Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's ready |
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Meet me at Vito's with Noodles, we'll do this dude while he's slurpin spaghetti |
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Everybody kiss the fuckin floor, Joey Crack, buck em all |
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If they move, Noodles shoot that fuckin whore |
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Dead in the middle of Little Italy little did we know |
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that we riddled some middlemen who didn't do diddily |
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It'll be a cold day in hell the day I'm taken out |
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Make no mistake for real I wouldn't hesitate to kill |
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I'm still the Fat One that you love to hate, catch you at your |
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mother's wake |
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Smack you then I wack you with my snub trey-eight |
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I rub your face off the Earth and curse your family children |
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like Amityville drill the nerves in your cavity fillin |
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Insanity's building a pavilion in my civilian |
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The cannon be the anarchy that humanity's dealing |
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A villain without remorse, who's willing to out your boss |
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Forever and take all the cheddar like child support |
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I support Pun in anything he does, anything he loves |
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My brother from another mother sent from the above |
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A thug nigga just like me, one of the best -- might be |
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Even better leavin niggaz kneelin on they right knee |
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Spike Lee couldn't paint a better picture |
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You small change, I'm blowin out your brains gettin richer |
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Hit you with the Mac (Mac), smack your bitch, nigga what? |
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You gettin stuck, my trigger finger's itchy as a fuck! |
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Trunk jewels (jewels), cruisin in the Land, pumpin 'Cash Rules' |
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Last crew to want it caught a hundred tryin to pass through |
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That's true, so who the next to get it? |
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TS the best that did it (get it off your chest kid admit it) |
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And it's |
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Here, and you don't stop! |
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Twenty shot glock with the cop killer filled up to the top |
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Yeah, and you don't stop! |
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Joey Crack's the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked |
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Yeah, and you don't stop! |
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We'll make it hot nigga, what bring it I blow your whole spot |
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Yeah, and you don't stop! |
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It's still one-eight-seven on an undercover cop! |
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Fuck the po-lice, I squeeze first, make em eat dirt |
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Take em feet first through the morgue, then launch em in the T-bird |
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The street's cursed, the first amendment's culturally biased |
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Supposed to supply us with rights, tonight I hold my rosary |
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tight as I can, I'm one man against the world, just me and my girl |
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Black Pearl Latina my sena but keeps it real |
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You know the deal, we steal from the rich and keep it |
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Peep it it's no secret, watch me and Joe go back and forth and freak it |
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Creep with me, as I cruise in my Beemer |
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All the kids in the ghetto call me Don Cartagena |
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Kickin ass as I blast off heat, and |
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you never see me talk to police, so |
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you should know that I really don't care |
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Pull you by the hair, slit your throat, and I'll leave you right there |
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So beware it's rare that niggaz want beef, Big Pun speak |
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and let these motherfuckers know how we run the streets |
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Fuck peace, I run the streets deep with no compassion, Puerto Ricans |
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known for slashin catchin niggaz while they sleepin, no relaxin |
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Keep your eyes open, sharp reflexes |
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Three techses in the Jeep Lexus just in case police test us |
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Street professors, Terror Squad, ghetto scholars |
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Full of clips, mob inflicts the fear of God when the metal hollers |
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Better acknowledge or get knocked down until I'm locked and shot down |
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Heather B couldn't make me put my Glock Down |
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We lock towns like rounds in the chamber |
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Boogie Down major like Nine, I bust mine |
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everytime plus I'm the crime boss of New York |
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When we talk to walk the walk all my niggaz carry chalk |
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and stalk, I prey like The Predator, whoever want it |
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go and get it set it baby and I'ma bury ya |
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So remember the Squad that I'm reppin |
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I pull a clip for my weapon and Punish niggaz till it's armageddon |
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Chorus 2X (to fade) |
