[sample] I love what I'm doin' I've always wanted to say I started when I was about five years
[Sense] Sense, man, gettin' it started Y'all know the flow is retarded So I'ma keep it goin' regardless Who the hardest that you ever heard? Maxin' out on every word Still got a shotgun flow, mixed with a Dese verse Gift wrapper or rappers, solo, clapper of clappers The fresh Dickie suit is under the mattress \"Ain't Nuthin' but a G Thang\", we bring surgeries Gun clap, fall back, white tees, burgundy These niggaz never heard of me Still, they try and murder me Teflon with the chest plate, try hurtin' me Yo, you're poop with the groupers, my live niggaz shoot with the shooters You the type that'll lose with the losers A gift to producers, cuz music beats is like cars to the streets It's so natural, I flow at you My little niggaz, man, they nuts like cashews Cash Rules, we get up in these niggaz like tattoos
[Fes Taylor] Aiyo, don't ask if I'm down with the Wu Just cuz I'm from Staten Island, yeah I fuck with Deck, but I rep the 4 and the 2 Catchin' me Hillside Scramblin', bitches like \"Ooh!\" When I hop out the brand new, 645, tan and blue The middle of winter, look I've got a tan too She popped me with royalty cheques, look at my advance too The year of the Warriors, every year the shit is gettin' cornier Throw chicks in front of my shorty, make her hornier This is a warning to ya, fake-ass rappers actin' like they want wit ya 'Til I blast, should've ignored the liquor You saw the picture, front page, all of my niggaz Like magazine covers, that's why the streets love us Some rest in peace above us, some in the beast and wonder When they hit the streets who freakin' they baby mother If we don't got shit, still know we got each other Haters try and block me like pucks but this ain't hockey, fucker!
[Lot-a-Nerv] Welcome to New York, yao, welcome to New York No disrespect to truth, but homey I am the truth, yup They call me Lot-a, baby, that black .380 crazy I'm smokin' like Frasier, you see all these damn haters bitch? Cuz my watch cost a flick, and my chain cost a brick And my bitch like Halle and Puffy mixed You don't really wanna go there, homeboy, ya too soft Just like beef, I get it gone just like goof off I'm in that two-door, draggin' along like two balls \"Murder Was the Case\" of the song playin' by Snoop Dogg Lot-a-Nerv, lot-a-money, lot-a-guns Lot-a's ass? Never that, y'all niggaz is fags Yup, yup, Lot-a's gettin' cash, jealous niggaz envy, yeah Niggaz wan' pop off, but we all know you fuck with shafts
[Lon Dini] Lon Dini sip Heini's, hood labelled me grimy Goons wanna send out some goons to outline me That's why when I step out the buildin' I watch behind me God guide me, I mean that, greatest to ever rap Live by my words, seen many people die on the curb When I heard, mice, we left, man, I felt the ill surge I guess, that's why I go in the booth and spill it loose Never pooly, on spot writer, I scribe fire Fly attire I rock, heavy pistols I pop Say a prayer for the peasents when the boss gettin' dropped No more givin' dap to fake cats, lyrically aren't the match My Milli movement like powerful music, like only we do this Step inside the square, half-cocked and smack stupid Hear my voice, you can loop it, you'll be makin' a hit Send 'em digits through to Two 4 War, now we legit Dini, LIS, Fes and Baby Pa, we killin' this shit
[L.I.S.] My freedom's, right in front of my eyes Been up top for a while, now I'm back on S.I. Seen the hood ain't changed, just the seasons of the year And the labels on the clothes that my hood niggaz wear Got up with Pa Bear and told him, \"This is our year\" We all black out babies, with promisin' careers It's time to switch up the near, go to the fifth, hit the nitro I'm tryin' to make it happen, ain't no time for the micro And tryin' to move this weight like lypo I done flooded small towns with weight like a psycho I done made towns hot with fire like a pyro I'm just tryin' to hit the stock market, a tycoon like Tyco Just gimme one shot, I'll scope the spot like a rifle Showin' my ass on tracks like end those to motorcycles With the Stat on my back and attack like it's a light load Got no patience for the fast brother behind my back, that's what the pipe's fo'
[Pa Bazil] They call me man in arms, niggaz that can handle problems Certified in guns and ammo, camouflaged with standard bombs You probably fan of ours, heard us on the channel knob Not so long ago we was pinnin' niggaz with hammers on 'em It's Milli Millionaires, Two 4's the company Trust me, in a year, on our side is where you wanna be All-star occassion, four stars, amazin' Dudes can't fuck with nann none of these songs we makin' Watch for the double agents and the infiltrators Get it independent, don't fuck with these damn majors