[Evil Dee] Word up, yaknowhaImsayin It's about to happen, Evil Dee in the area [Phone rings] Said it's about to happen, said it's about to change Word up! [Phone rings] [Button is pushed] [Woman on phone] Turn that damn music down man! [music fades] Turn that music down man, your shakin the damn house! What's wrong with you? This is not a club! [Music starts again]
[Lord Tariq] From a killer to a killer, rap cats to the cap peelers The hustlers, the coke, smoke, dope, and crack dealers On the streets of New York you can't find none realer I survived gunshots, cops, and all fed squealers We bled for the scrilla, chuggin shots of Tequilas But now y'all gone feel us, cuz the mission is to kill ya Nine milli' is the slug, and thug the lifestyle And I'll rip your bro, cause bro I'm quite wild So here, take this rag and wipe your smile Cuz when I pull shit, the bullshit might go down I got dawgs in the ghettos, and the white boys town That'll die for the cause, I'm controllin the board Through many cities abroad From the counties of Cali, to C74, B I'm heavily lawed I invest in, Bronx blots, from Rosedale and Creston Top of that ho sale, and have my whole sale Get 'em gear, a salary and hope it goes well 'Til I'm shot or locked up and can't post no bail Y'all are frail, y'all niggas can't fuck with what we into Knife is the apparel, and the nine is the utensil Everthing official, made to get you raisin issues When the bullets blaze we hit'chu Nothin less they're grazin tissues My mind designed for every rhyme you spit, I spit two My nines designed to split you in two, get up in you
[Man with an island accent] This is live and direct Live and direct You know what live and direct means? It means live and direct
[Royce the 5-9] You motherfucker'll get tore up and be tore By the walkin bomb, that'll blow up and reform Grow up, then reborn Told you that I'm a star that's gone live forever Serve a life sentence and get out and go to the bar So nigga take that {*gunshot*} If I gotta go to the car Or that {*gunshot*} that {*gunshot*} if I gotta throw it in park The iron'll wet you, the Mossberg pump With the buckshot shells'll turn a nigga into chinese checkers I don't even start writin 'til I'm on my 3rd fifth This is what you get when Beatminerz meet the Wordsmiths Everytime I go out, I cop somethin new Everytime I throw this right hand, I knock somethin loose Who the fuck think they can see me, might as well call the wife And tell your not comin home and to take it easy My guns don't snoop, they woof, at them sissy-ass niggas Type that acidentally shoot they foot Desert Eagle too big for you bitch-ass niggas Soft-ass punks, can't take the cake back niggas And you wonder why they suckin my dick Or why I keep a suitcase with thirty grand handcuffed to my wrist Or why the rocks could possibly make you lose your sight blinkin, on the wrist Lookin like haledge and hazard lights blinkin Royce the 5-9 and Tariq about to sprinkle gunpowder on all beef Now who the fuck want it, nigga
[Man with island accent] Now hear this! You little spit and chew out sound boy If an stick you conquer my experience I will work Ya must think a some kings in the CIA gettin crowned No no no, no no no no way Ya got to work HARD for it Don't bring no, go up and sound until it get down Come wit it!
By The Tree lyrics