| Falalalala
|
| Yo, this is how we do this shit
|
| Niggas better move, niggas better get back
|
| Niggas better move, don’t fake no jacks (Leave Now!)
|
| I come like a river, I’ll make ya shake ya zipper
|
| The liver, here comes the nigga that’ll dick ya
|
| Raw, hardcore, sounds that pound
|
| Stop, look, what’s that sound?
|
| Come on now, you’ve got to swing with the King
|
| Cuz the things I bring’ll cause more ruckus than Rodney King
|
| Riots, gimme ya head and I’mma fry it
|
| Try it, I just might be the nicest you ever saw or seen
|
| Cats are jammin like Mitch Green, more albums than Al Green
|
| A fiend for rap, puttin this shit on back
|
| For my niggas who put me on the map (Like that, like that)
|
| Back, flash his ring around the axis
|
| Feel my mark upon ya chest when it slashes
|
| Slow like molasses, Black Fist is massive
|
| And I rock rhymes from here to Shaolin to Dallas
|
| Boom, the bomb, the Mega Don drops
|
| What the Blood Clots? |
| Two-Six fuckin shots
|
| Stand clear for the warfare
|
| Or surrender, throw the white flags in the air
|
| Yea, the Mega Don’s repossessin shit
|
| And I’ll represent, kid these misfits are militant
|
| Since, life’s a bitch, I’mma use her
|
| One life to lose her, the Mega Don’s a death abuser
|
| Like a butt, niggas better spit at you
|
| I’m sick, with what I’m dealin with, Shaolin be rippin shit
|
| On the wreck, Mega Don, Knotty Dread Brothers
|
| We actin live, but this way, all that’s dead
|
| So act like you know, black
|
| It’s the Mega Don, check the stat
|
| Ninety-four, fakin no jacks
|
| Check it out, it’s the mutt who rules like King Tut'
|
| You rappers suck, it’s another Black Fist uppercut
|
| All I wish for is blunts and stunts
|
| You get played like a dunce, I get props makin mutts
|
| Misfits, a bunch of hoods with Knapps, hairs twisted
|
| Steppin to my crew, you wouldn’t wanna risk it
|
| Just listen, I’mma school that ass like the Board of Ed
|
| A skin head, with chicken-heads jumpin on my dick head
|
| Nuff said, eyes is mad red, mouth full of smoke
|
| Blow it out thru my nose, then take another tote
|
| I hope, that I could live large like Boss Hogg
|
| The cat’s out the bag, fuck it, let loose the dogs
|
| I’m walkin niggas like a pit, it’s the Profes
|
| Be on my face, hard like an erect dick
|
| I damage an amateur, clean up styles like janitors
|
| Van Clans are canned, they can’t understand my slammin stamina
|
| I master trash in blastin, ass-rappin
|
| This gat-clappin black, attacks the wack actin
|
| Approachers, choke from the smoke of snub noses
|
| And die, high off highly potent doses of dopeness
|
| I posted, roast up these jokers, it’s over
|
| Quit, I’m rippin off your shit like strip poker
|
| Each one, teach one son, but you was taught wrong
|
| I swarm, rip four pawns, you’re torn, sick thoughts form
|
| But if I ever want z’s chief, I just repeat
|
| No wack styles, count sheep, and go to sleep
|
| Black Fist, the Shaolin Click, declares war
|
| So move, move muthafucka, what you waitin for?
|
| Fuck that, blood clot!
|
| (Easy, easy, selecta, Black Fist is ours, celestial
|
| Any man want some must get after dem)
|
| Big shout out, all right
|
| Big shout out to all my man lock down
|
| Shitty Brown (My man Will)
|
| Ah. |
| Two-Six Mob, my liners
|
| Ah. |
| MZA (L.K.) Ah. |
| GP Wu
|
| Ah. |
| Barry', ah. |
| Meth-Tical
|
| Boogie, ah. |
| K.C., yes. |
| uh.
|
| Meth-Tical! |
| Haha
|
| (Chris) Two-Two's
|
| All right, all right, Little MZA
|
| Uh. |
| Shaggy, Shaggy, Shaggy. |
| *fades* |