[Intro: Lon Dini (Fes Taylor)] Dini, baby, Two 4 War (The Milli is back) We about to blow, you faggot niggaz ain't ready, man Know I mean? (Return of The Milli) Dini forever, man, L.I., Baby Pa, L.G.P. (You niggaz ain't ready) Get Fresh Crew Let's do it (You don't got a choice but to get ready)
[Lon Dini] Yo, I flow through, anti-social You clown niggaz loco, I fuck bad bitches on every postal Move and you see it come through with new recruits Cuz I keep baggies and boots, and niggaz'll shoot Like I said before I write it on spot, I'm going straight to the top Like the yae when it touches the pot Only the kid Dini can do this, smooth but I'm ruthless Violators get chased down and beat toothless Two of the kicks sounding like the tank let off We and Taylor hopped in the '07 shit and jet off Grandpa asleep, I'm in the room chopping grams How dare you faggot fucks ever try to bite the hand of the man that feeds you, the man that leads you Guerilla warfare, motherfucker, we breed crews Bang on you faggot ass clowns All you cowards scatter like fucking roaches when you hear that sound Yea, huh...
[Hook 2X: Fes Taylor] New York, New York
[Pa Bazil] Yo, yo, check it They say a measure of a man is measured by his accomplishments When you wack, fool, you get no acknowledgement Just gotta swallow it, back to the drawing board When it gets too tough and we might write some songs for y'all Hit it like Arthur with murderous ways With the help of my niggaz we'll take over this place Just like a moment of fate, it was written in the cards Like the Sun was a line between the moon and the stars And by the way, my name is the Pa I done fathered many styles on the Shao' so get ready for more You never know what he's holding in store You gotta guess it's ugly Been through the line of fire so I bet the rest is nothing I figure less discussion, more action and destruction At anyone who has the audac' to try and send me something
[Fes Taylor] Myspace.com, we got spins like Flex dropped the bomb Modern day King Kong, alright, building in my palm Twin Tower of P, that's my my charm This ain't back in the days, my beeper's gone Yea, we on that Nextel chirp, I got work I promote like I got milk right in the dirt Uh-huh, feel the worms and the snakes pass by My cash buy, anything I want so I ain't gotta ask why Fast fry like french fries, cuz my cash pries Ultimate hustler but I don't got Damon Dash ties Now I arise from the dead, my niggaz lost lives and they bled Blow it through Mexico, hide it from the feds Yea, yea, Federallis, firearms, you never carry See me crack a smile, not necessarily happy I growl at the beat, I'm just starting to bark Then I bite, step on ya toes, paw on ya Clark's Ferrari is parked, you shook when the lobby is dark The beat gasoline, probably'll spark Fire, nigga, fire alarms, stop, look, admire the Don Cars on cinder blocks, tires is gone Fly as the Fonz, never went bronze But I'm trying to stunt gold sold this pair of LeBrons How we do things, even my shoes bling Willie Rocks, tell 'em these ain't rhymes, those in a shoe string This my new thing, Taylor and Pa Bazil Dini, Lis, Gil put his cards on the table We dealing with a royal flush So when you peasents in the presence of royalty, shut up and hush