Artist: Fes Taylor f/ Hue Hefna, King Just, Lon Dini, Lot-a-Nerv, Milla, Pa Bazil Album: Taylor Made Song: S.I.N.Y. Flow Typed by: Tha Masta [Lon Dini] What you thought I messed with cub scout thugs? You pay niggaz to ride, mines do it for love Before you niggaz could look up and think, I'm bombing you again Thought you was the only hot shit to come out of Shaolin? Spill truth like the scripture, paint ill pictures To them dudes that violated, believe I'ma get you Never forget, won't stop 'til Lon dropping stiff A gifted lyrical wizard, flow is explicit Who is it? Dini in here, don't ever compare Like an unstoppable force you can't get near Fucked up, shitted on the borough that made you You sold millions, now the radio don't even play you [Hue Hefna] I'm a gentleman, with the mind of Adolf Hitler And I'ma shine like E.T. waved his finger With a customized Z-3 to cake up, nigga No plastic surgeon or scalpel, fix ya face up, nigga In the hood I be pitching base (yeah) I'm from the hood where Y. died, B. Ghost and the cops killed Case And that bitch Brown still got promoted Fuck the hip-hop police, this verse, nigga I wrote it And the glock you should know that I tote it It don't take a scientist to hit the block, son, I bubble like potion I am, Young Hefna, the voice of the new era Me and money go together like milk and Amaretto Who you know do it better? Won't stop 'til the S.I. get their Groove Back sorta like Stella Hating, you a jealous type of fella I clap you in the ear and make you faggots go deaf like Helen Keller [Milla] Fucking with Milla, you guaranteed to lose I push your wig so far back you make the headline news Look, my whole set Beneeni so guard ya neck Never easy with Tecs, be easy, that'll put you to rest When war's on, home boy, have on more than a vest You gone, hollows eating through your bones and flesh I could show you how we do it the best Pull it on the strip with Mitchell and S Hand-to-hand all day like I'm boxing with vets Keep birds in check like I work at a vet Listen home boy, the .40 cal'll take off half of your chest Look boy, I will put you to rest Look, soft niggaz gon' stunt, I'ma back out When could try to run, little boy, when you see that chrome Mack out It be a wrap when them hollows eat ya back out I'm a boss, I could easily back out Have my set spaz out, flags out, mags out Fans first so you know we shutting down routes My team all about getting cash, getting ass Beef, I'ma split ya mask, yeah boy, take ya stash Y'all niggaz strictly ass, I'll squeeze the pistol fast In the kitchen, baking soda, fishscale, whip it fast [Pa Bazil] Fear Factor, ultimate punisher, it's the slasher One fourth of The Milli' and rap broadcaster Catch all bastards, call it a wide tyrant Sex, drugs, hip-hop, food and more violence One resolution this year, it's more college Twenty-eight and I'm a grown-ass man, you all childish I got a history for hustling and violence And don't get knocked, and witnesses keep it silent Peace to the mommies that's all sexy and vibrant Loving when a nigga be thugging or straight 'tiring That's why I'm glad I went the direction that I did Shit wasn't planned but it worked out for my kids And I'm in a class with myself About half a block away from the wealths and top shelf shit Get dealt with, bent backwards and belted Fucking with the top of the charts, darts'll melt it 'Cause what I do is leave 'em Blue like Selsen Nigga better fall the fuck back and wait 'til Hell come 'Cause even in a million years They'll be feeling fear, I'ma die a millionaire [Lot-a-Nerv] Yo the bang out, ease T.G. with the gang route Homey have give to the top, I'm on the same route Names pout, bitches that snitch they get a chained mouth Framed out, you don't want Real to pull them things out Knowing I'm that six and arrow, raise, lick six and explode Shots blaow, and crack ya coconut, yo Have ya bitch in the back giving coke in her thong I'm a pimp, I could have ya moms open her home Wanna flow? Go go go, charge twenty a bar Roll the 'dro so high, go me flowing with God Write it down in the booth, got me spitting it hard I'm sick contageous like I'm kissing with SARS Different from y'all, Nerv Mauseberg on the hip Mine swerve when it spit, it could leave you herbs in a ditch I sold perp, urge thick when I'm working the fifth It'll push ya skin back like uncircumsized dicks, get it? [Fes Taylor] Never went to college, out working on degrees So I'm standing on the block, got crack working for me Picture me working at Mickey D's, rolling up sticky weed Run to Disney World, tell Mickey "Freeze!" Listen, I keep my wrist wrapped And if ya girl count the diamonds in my bracelet you'll never get ya bitch back Whether it's soft or hard white, I pitch that And I don't talk, I start fights with impact I rope a nigga, hogtie to a kidnap Similar to how Specman caught a bid flat This is real shit when you hear the kid rap Fans all happy again like B.I.G. back Name anything about bread, I'm with that Cool bitches, when you drive what I drive you get that Put five up, me and my homies'll split that You been wack, rap license revoked, give ya pen back I've been trapped in the pens with crack Served fiends, blowing the bean like I'm still with the Pack If they ask, "Yeah I'm still with the Pack" That Stat's still on the map, Two-Forty nigga on the Killah Hill track [King Just] Well it's the one man handstand who always hits grand slams K.J. can can fly heads like Pan Am Taliban fam fly right out of the quicksand Wanna be like P. Diddy and make my own Band On Staten Is-land I cram, don't understand You fuck around with us and get robbed Van Damme Shit don't jam when it come to a jam Yo my rhymes is like weight and every word is one gram On to Peter Pan, Hannibal Smith, he got plans You lie about Black Sheeps it's Silence of the Lambs Wolf Pack, we pack more guns than Pakistan Park Hillians, damn right we fuck fans I am what I am and that's all that I am Tote so much heat I'm able to give tans Out the boiling water into the frying pan It's the man in command in heavy demand In my B-Boy Stance, call an ambulance I told him gangstas don't dance, he should've known in advance High stance, whatever battery got you amped You don't wanna start no shit and the cops'll pitch ya camp Give light like a lamp, pick ya pockets like pants I ain't Slim Thug but fuck around with me and be a slim chance You're sweet like a fragrance you weak niggaz say "Wah" Now I shut ya shit down like fucking cigarettes man Mr. Set-Trend, ain't no replacement The rapper that inspired truth, I replaced him The Legend Killa, none iller, Park Hiller Rap realer, shooting threes like Reggie Miller Darth Villa, I don't even fuck with you niggaz Saying you the best on DVD, how you figure? Nigga, to beat the best you gotta go against the best Come to think about it, I ain't seen you bitch niggaz yet From the 10304 where the guns go off Copping ten or more Dutches at the PLO store And I'm out... {*warrior chanting*}