Lyrics : Brodus, Cartegena, Rios, Wolfe ...
Music : C. Rios/A. Young/C. Broadus/C. Brodus/C. Wolfe/J. Cartagena
Ready for war Joe, how you wanna blow they spot
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's ready
Meet me at Vito's with Noodles, we'll do this dude while he's slurpin spaghetti
Everybody kiss the nigga floor, Joey Crack, buck em all
If they move, Noodles shoot that nigga whore
Dead in the middle of Little Italy little did we know
that we riddled some middlemen who didn't do diddily
It'll be a cold day in hell the day I'm taken out
Make no mistake for real I wouldn't hesitate to kill
I'm still the Fat One that you love to hate, catch you at your
mother's wake
Smack you then I wack you with my snub trey-eight
I rub your face off the Earth and curse your family children
like Amityville drill the nerves in your nigga fillin
Insanity's building a pavilion in my civilian
The cannon be the anarchy that humanity's dealing
A villain without remorse, who's willing to out your boss
Forever and take all the cheddar like child support
I support Pun in anything he does, anything he loves
My brother from another mother sent from the above
A thug nigga just like me, one of the best -- might be
Even better leavin niggaz kneelin on they right kne
Spike Lee couldn't paint a better picture
You small change, I'm blowin out your brains gettin richer
Hit you with the Mac (Mac), smack your nigga, nigga what?
You gettin stuck, my trigger finger's itchy as a b***h!
Trunk jewels (jewels), cruisin in the Land, pumpin 'Cash Rules'
Last crew to want it caught a hundred tryin to pass through
That's true, so who the next to get it?
TS the best that did it (get it off your chest kid admit it)
And it's
Here, and you don't stop!
Twenty shot glock with the cop killer filled up to the top
Yeah, and you don't stop!
Joey Crack's the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns ****ed
Yeah, and you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what bring it I blow your whole spot
Yeah, and you don't stop!
It's still one-eight-seven on an undercover cop!
**** the po-lice, I squeeze first, make em eat dirt
Take em feet first through the morgue, then launch em in the T-bird
The street's cursed, the first amendment's culturally biased
Supposed to supply us with rights, tonight I hold my rosary
tight as I can, I'm one man against the world, just me and my girl
Black Pearl Latina my sena but keeps it real
You know the deal, we steal from the rich and keep it
Peep it it's no secret, watch me and Joe go back and forth and freak it
Creep with me, as I cruise in my Beemer
All the kids in the ghetto call me Don Cartagena
Kickin ass as I blast off heat, and
you never see me talk to police, so
you should know that I really don't care
Pull you by the hair, slit your throat, and I'll leave you right there
So beware it's rare that niggaz want beef, Big Pun spea
and let these mother****ers know how we run the streets
**** peace, I run the streets deep with no compassion, Puerto Ricans
known for slaughtering catchin b*****s while they sleepin, no relaxin
Keep your eyes open, sharp reflexes
Three techses in the Jeep Lexus just in case police test us
Street professors, Terror Squad, ghetto scholars
Full of clips, mob inflicts the fear of God when the metal hollers
Better acknowledge or get knocked down until I'm locked and shot down
Heather B couldn't make me put my Glock Down
We lock towns like rounds in the chamber
Boogie Down major like Nine, I bust mine
everytime plus I'm the crime boss of New York
When we talk to walk the walk all my niggas carry chalk
and stalk, I prey like The Predator, whoever want it
go and get it set it baby and I'ma bury ya
So remember the Squad that I'm reppin
I pull a clip for my weapon and Punish b*****s till it's armageddon
Chorus 2X (to fade)