| I spit… fire
|
| You go… jealous
|
| That’s… fire
|
| (Got the fire)
|
| Yeah, Yeah… jealous
|
| (Thats fire talk, you heard?)
|
| New York Island, defend it, peep the style I invented
|
| Silencer on the 40 cal’ll cramp your style in a minute
|
| I’m vintage, authentic, my brain is tormented
|
| Got the physique of a God, I was made in the Lord’s image
|
| That’s word to mama, I was perfectly sculpted
|
| Put rappers in surgery in the infirmary posted
|
| Place 'em in body bags, and leave them virtually roasted
|
| Turn a Moe to a John Doe, I never heard of these culprits
|
| I’m back to being focused, reloaded, the book has been decoded
|
| It Was Written way before Nas and Hova even wrote it
|
| Hear ye, hear ye, please listen up clearly
|
| To a King’s theory that I got for your earpiece
|
| And sadly I came here to tear beats to a shred
|
| She say its hard to get it done but it’s more easily said
|
| Rakim and Eric B., I’m now impeachin' the prez
|
| My proposal is indecent, R.I.P. |
| to the feds
|
| I spit… fire
|
| You go… jealous
|
| That’s… fire
|
| Yeah, Yeah… jealous
|
| Homie, you know the squad, fire with the coldest bars
|
| Put us against all odds, you know we going hard
|
| Corleone Flow, family at the table
|
| Big dollar stacks blocking my view
|
| Henny and Grey Goose, my main crew
|
| Some are legit, most are straight goon
|
| We made it through, those on my side, are who remained true
|
| 300 Spartan hard, yet wouldn’t be called a fraud
|
| But call me young snipes, money, train, all aboard
|
| I’m at the Smörgåsbord with two plates in my hand
|
| Generale, 100 stripes I got 'em all at war
|
| It’s shady the biz, in case I get sprayed in my wig
|
| Make sure you take care of my lady and kids
|
| Before I conversate with the pigs and turn snakes to my nigs
|
| I hold the weights and I’m taking the bid
|
| Yeah, Salute the Don, official, we in office
|
| Spotted on the yacht offshore, talking with bosses
|
| Ocean 14 type schemes to get us more rich
|
| Out for the grit, no matter what the cost is
|
| I spit… fire
|
| You go… jealous
|
| That’s… fire
|
| Yeah, Yeah… jealous
|
| Homie, you know the squad, fire with the coldest bars
|
| Put us against all odds, you know we going hard
|
| I spit… fire |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Fire , by - Inspectah Deck. Song from the album Chamber No. 9, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп