|
[Featuring Cam'ron Big Pun Noreaga Canibus]
|
DJ Clue: *with echo effect*
|
Fantastic Four: Cam'ron Pun Nore Canibus
|
Cam'ron:
|
>You never hear that we buckle
|
Beef? We chuckle
|
Scuffle over a game of pinochle
|
Anything up on my money man I gotta see double
|
Unless you want trouble
|
Oh you realer now?
|
I'm the kind to cut a peace of soap put it on the imbecile
|
Crack the Hen Rock style give me the foul
|
Girls grope then I smile
|
That's when they fall cause they met my balls
|
Right after I played ball
|
No wash-up, no nothin'. Hear what I say y'all?
|
O.K. y'all. Ask AJ y'all
|
I'll turn the baddest bitch gay y'all
|
Like Stacy, damn, she was eatin' Tracy's ass
|
At this other lady's pad
|
To get it on I had to call up Desert Storm
|
My cut-throats scar y'all, while you hope the Don fall
|
But I'll come inside The Tunnel, nigga, wit Pope John Paul
|
Yo, them niggas on the wall frontin', they ain't no harm y'all
|
My crew'll break each shoulder
|
I'm that nigga they talk about on Street Soldiers
|
Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers
|
We keep 2 bones and 2 phones in each Rover
|
We all relaxed and any beef we over-reactin
|
Peace to Lorey Actins, but I get buck wild like Corey Jackson
|
Playin' is called off, cause y'all about to get hauled off
|
Y'all all soft from smokin Nicholi (/nicks), nigga, like Volkof
|
Know what I mean yo? Notice the cream grow
|
I fiend though, I'll come fuck up your whole town like El Nino
|
I'm the hottest nigga you've seen though
|
Jumpin outta Lex Coupe
|
With Jimmy Jones right next to me in the Benz Truck too
|
Big Pun:
|
>Fuck all y'all non-believers
|
I roll wit God, the squad & TS
|
Out wit the B.S.
|
We platinum, they even doubted Jesus
|
Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid
|
Brainbolic wit knowledge, cock-diesel scholars
|
Holdin' it down, walkin' around wit gold by the pound
|
Frozen down wit diamond bolders all in the crown
|
Talk of the town
|
Soakin' you down wit the toast 'til you drown
|
Ghost you and put your corpse in force that'll open the ground
|
Save the jokes for the clowns
|
I'm on a serious tip
|
You keep playin' and I get furious quick
|
And now I take you for a walk in the ghetto
|
Even spark your metal and get outlined in chalk by the devil
|
I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit
|
I used to clap shit
|
Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit
|
I used to have to pack a mack in the back of the Ac[ura]
|
Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack
|
It's like that but don't think I won't counter act
|
My niggas is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back
|
I'm swift with the mack, quicker than Kung Fu
|
With the reflexes of a cat and the speed of a mongoose
|
Noreaga:
|
talk about huh? That's what we talk about thug shit ( 4x's )
|
>Now it's a symphony
|
Without me on it, it ain't a symphony
|
My crew shit on cats without Tiffany
|
N-O-R-E, I just lace the heat
|
I don't complain about the track, give me any beat
|
I get hed in the wip on any street
|
I fuck wit Clue, other cats is snakes
|
I've been fuckin' with Clue since he made 60 minute tapes
|
We copped mad bottles and crushed many grapes
|
We from the hood and they from the hood
|
The difference is we get plaques, they go double wood
|
Took the game right over at the time they could
|
Them niggas silly though, knowin' Nore lay pretty low
|
But them niggas is [ho]mos like the Maxwell video
|
I got 2 albums and 2 cars
|
Now bitches on my dick cause of Chico DeBarge
|
Thugged Out's 1st lady (let's go half on a lady)
|
Ya motherfuckers ain't live, don't control the streets
|
I sold 163 thou[sand] on my 1st week
|
That means I got more fans than you
|
Bigger plans than you
|
We buy real coke, your grams is blue
|
Ai yo, the President is like me, he smoke weed too
|
Don't really like to fuck, he just get hed too
|
Stick a broom in your butt, tell you, "go head boo"
|
Thugged Out motherfuckers like the rest of the crew
|
Canibus, Cam'ron and Punisher too
|
And the beats are usually done by Duro and Clue
|
Canibus:
|
>Who in the hell wanna battle, the ill mathematical?
|
My motherfuckin' brain is IBM compatible
|
Techniques are foreign
|
Far from being borin'
|
My style is hard like cancer without McCorman
|
I run threw your crew like the flu when I bomb it
|
My styles like AIDS cause don't nobody want it
|
Niggas frontin' like they hard
|
But I'm a Street Fighter like Jean Claude
|
And I'll split your shit, god
|
Right down the middle
|
Play you like a riddle
|
I got a fetish for titties, I nibble on the nipple
|
Then trespass on your property like Monopoly
|
Subdue your crew and beat that ass properly
|
Welcome to the Desert Storm annual extravaganza
|
Clue rolls deeper than the cart-rides on Bonanza
|
I feed off weed, natural energy sources
|
Lyrics with more power than the horses they put in Porches
|
Can't be tested or F'ed wit
|
I'm too reckless
|
I chop off heads just to take the necklace
|
The type of Canibus (/cannabis) that's side-effectless
|
The type of shit that get the Question-mark Man arrested
|
Take evasive action
|
Flip like reciprocal fractions
|
Turn the heat up on MCs to watch their meat blacken
|
You try get fly, you get electrified and fried
|
Fuck around and get your mouth slapped dry
|
You could battle me and possibly survive
|
But you could never see me and walk away without a black eye
|
Word up hop, CLUEminat call the cops
|
And if the cops ain't tryin' to see me, then the cops call SWAT
|
Scar your whole squad with bullet scars
|
No holds barred
|
I'll even hassle the National Guard
|
Ready or not like the Fugees
|
Crews be steppin' to me
|
But I wipe em' all out like booty
|
I'm so unruly, the police don't say nothin' to me
|
It don't matter whether they on or off duty
|
I murder you brutally when I spit at you
|
My actions are unforgivable
|
Look at what CLUEminati did to you
|
The maximum lyrical
|
Nigga you minimal
|
There's a big hole in the desert, I told the men in blue to dig for
|
you
|
Motherfucker...CLUEminati 98'
|
DJ Clue: *with echo effect*
|
Dj ClueThe Professional
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Fantastic Four
|
| DJ Clue |
