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Artist: Onyx
Album:  Bacdafucup Part II
Song:   Onyx is Back
Typed by: *

* send corrections to the typist

Yeah, aha, yah

Onyx is back, and they can never, ever, ever be wack (4x)

[Fredro Starr]
Yo America is under attack, yo Onyx is back
Took a team out the hood, the whole crew got phat
Allot of hate cause I took Hollywood on my back
Keep it crully, grimy, no positive rap
You can tell by the way I got out the projects
You still here, your thuggin with the best
Don't worry if I got nines I blast text
You should worry if ya got shine I snatch next
War for real you don't want war for real
If it's real make ya Timbs up step up and feel
Cause real killas do real things, but not you
You americÚ nigga who wanna play nigga?
Take a stray nigga, get out ma way nigga
The ballheads back nobody wurse then them
I'm a mad face nigga in a worsta grim
I'm a maceface nigga I'm n a ?? ??


Who that, sonee, hell yeah!
Bangin Brooklyn to Brussels to bell air
Shortys poppin their brands
hoppin out cars, got rappers nervous
scared of dropping their bars
take ya though, break you, break ya ho
nigga aint a greater flow
I make ya new, Money better play it low
Take it slow, Make the foo
Keep ya face aint a moo
I'm like mixin liquor
I'm bound to come up on niggaz
And highjack the bank abduct ya ditches
Cant fly, got a nice plan tuck to fit ya
I'll be lost a fare kid paid bucks to bitch ya
So, no, wer stopping wer trempin yo scene
I'm mixin, yellow with blue, I gotta get green
Either yo with us, or not, not in between
You will show us the money when I show you the bean


[Sticky Fingaz]
Well it's the S-T crocked I-C-K-Y
Got ma ?? ?? doin for sticks back in B, K and Y
I'm livin all in 5 barrels, so I'm rappin wild
The thuggest thug in the club, who else plays high?
Been in the game for years, it made me a criminal
Your small time, ma rims is just as big as you
Iv never had a 9 to 5, I had a 9 that hit people that got off there 5
From thosele shiny things, that cut trough glass
Don't even speak to me, this is about sex and cash
I like ma cars, girls and clothes only for ma models
I beat you between yo head with thousand dollar arms bottle
Cant even with ice, I carry to much heat
The combination always leaves somebody wetting the street
I'm start sellin hope trough ma arms of weed
Cause I'm broke only got three hundred gram on the bank
We back, bringing you that filth from filth
Let me stop talking before I criminate myself