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Текст песни Fat Joe f Big Punisher, Jadakiss, Nas, R - John Blaze

Fat Joe f Big Punisher, Jadakiss, Nas, R - John Blaze слова песни

Verse One: NasMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligenceMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentialsGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principalHe`d tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencilStabbin students, grabbin teachers, Catholics, preachersIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reeferIn my own class, operation return, they tried to sayI was incompetent, not able to learnThe table turned now, got my own label to earnLike that nigga said in _Dead Presidents_, money to burnQueensbridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vetAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin thatI`m just the best, puttin all violence to restbetween Latin Kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in SpanishSo many thugs vanish, unite the systemto fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prisonVerse Two: Big PunisherMy crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must dieJust give me one try -- `Now you know you done fucked up right?`Hah, you ain`t got no wins in my casaQue te pasa, you ain`t even in my clasaI hate a actor that plays a rapperI`m Terror Squad beta kappa everybody`s favorite rapperGrand imperial college material insane criminalThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineralI reign subliminal inside your visualTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyricalI`ll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding youEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on youSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I`m the kidout of Bronx, that`ll stomp you to death like it didn`t matterI`m even better than before, iller metaphorsKillers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em allChorus: scratches by DJ SpinbadJ-J-J-John BlazeJa-Ja-ah-John Bla-BlazeJ-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze"Johnny Blaze ain`t a damn thing changed!" --> Method ManVerse Three: JadakissAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess aroundand spit twelve at the driver`s side door of your RangeSix hit you, the other six, up in your dameMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chainsTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aimcause y`all misdemeanor niggaz can`t stand the reignBetter believe that, whenever I see y`all I`ma test yaOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressureHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for`Kiss ain`t the cops, but I lock niggaz upYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz upFar as the flow go, you could let your dough showPut your money on the table, we could battle on cableY`all hot dog niggaz get nathansFuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John BlazinVerse Four: RaekwonMy son cool out (what) don`t beef yo, throw the tool outLet`s run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move outCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heatin the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gashThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwearStrike me out God, stackin up joints, rack em like FootlockerThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, representHere to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stallRelentless, the anthology consolidatedwith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sicknessLex, imagination large, gold cardsBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older GodSpecialist, iciclist, Woolridge collarFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don`t snitch, that`s whybroke niggaz who got heart God, sign em upStart the wind up, we John Blazin, Don up in the line upChorusVerse Five: Fat JoeIt`s simple mathematics, you gotta love usCause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckersJust when you thought I was done, I recruited PunTerror Squad Enterprise, undisputed DunnI`m from the slums where it`s worse, bust with guns til it hurtsfor fuckin with my funds on the firstAnd go to church like a mobsterDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my Cuban partnersLucas with the cartridge, twenty shotRun up on any block, disrespect any copUsed to run many spots, now I own shopsGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a popI`m hot, who wanna get burned?I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turnYou best learn to parlay, I`ve had a hard dayFuck around with the Don and get John BlazedChorus 2X

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