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And now it's time bring out the headliner for the evening |
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Very special, please welcome to the stage |
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Escape from New York, but I be on some Brooklyn, bullshit |
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I pull clips as fast as I dose chicks with ope tits |
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Call me Necor, set the coke surviving the sticks |
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Got my name all in your mouth like your liable to brick |
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Click me on the tube, chain swinging down to my shoes |
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Light up the room, African boom, spark it and zoom |
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Disciple of rock, the type to range rifles and cops |
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I'm spiteful, fake's get left shaking like Michael J Fox |
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I deliver aids infected acupuncture |
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Gangster and hustler murderer and kidnap a suspect |
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Wrap her in [unverified] with blood red to crip blue |
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My shit's to colorful |
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Running through with a hundred goons and maniacs |
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If a bitch like to suck dick, she a brainiac |
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Bust up in they mouth piece, see how they react, take it back |
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Like a instant replay, live in the PJ's, watching my uncle Freebase |
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Analyzing the angles on a fiend's face |
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I learn to love my trees lace, the way the PCP taste |
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The way it make me see things |
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Old school dice spot bills and sheep skins as I write |
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Yes, I'm rocking Iceberg jeans and Tims |
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Thinking where I'm going be in 2007 |
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Either a house in the Hamptons or a house in Heaven |
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I be chillin' on the beach in the South of Venice |
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Or merking the President live on Channel 7 |
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Coming through rocking |
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Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars |
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(Inspectah Deck) |
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Non Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's |
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Coming through rocking |
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Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars |
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(Inspectah Deck) |
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Non Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's |
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I be Brooklyn till I die don't even question it twice |
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My crew's nice, late night at the corners we shooting dice |
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It's like, summertime in New York, jeans, shorts, tims |
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Tanktops to roofies, groupies acting loosely |
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Who'll be, in a black drop with his hat cocked that can't block |
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Puff on the stove, get spit in snapshots |
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I'm trying to live, feed the kids, drive some whips, handle biz |
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Own a crib, do my shit, in the streets, that's how it is |
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If I say, rock star, I'm talking about rocking the mic |
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My shit's hot like the rock fiend dropping a pipe |
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These cats are idiots, with raps so pussy they catch period's |
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I'm serious, my life is like a drug experience |
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A porno movie with no plot and I'm the only guy in it |
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Like Vivid video's with Kobe Tai dime, bitches |
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Ill Bill rap crusader, chilling in the black Navigator |
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Canarsie to Pennsylvania |
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Wild like rock, rock stars, who, who smash guitars |
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Coming through rocking |
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Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars |
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(Inspectah Deck) |
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Non Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's |
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Break Mumia out, bang you with shells and heaters out |
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Blast off the terrorist, blow bombs and speakers out |
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Hookers and bricks, gutter cats, bitches and pimps |
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Cripples and Gimps, ex-cons, pushers and tricks |
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Street poet, speak the essence, what's realer than this |
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Up in the club smoked out coke, the feeling of Cris |
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You lighting the wrist, Richard Simmons fro with a pick |
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Taking my record label hostage if they stompin' my shit |
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I remember them cold nights and long lines for clubs |
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Now it's strictly VIP, free drinks and drugs |
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Pounds and hugs, getting back rubs |
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Be them underground thugs |
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Stay street but got new found love |
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Take a Continental, driver rental, travel the globe |
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Non Phixion to the end worldwide we rock shows |
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Explode from out the projects, Glenwood to Drysneck |
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Hold your drink up and make a toast to how the gods get |
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Coming through rocking |
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Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars |
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(Inspectah Deck) |
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Non-Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's |
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Coming through rocking |
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Wild like rock stars, who smash guitars |
|
(Inspectah Deck) |
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Non-Phixion, unadulterated, emcee's |
