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(Tame One) |
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Wait'll *************z hear that Tame and Fatal got down and made it straight |
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from Uptown with six sacks and this track that's in the background |
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Stop stressin from the chest up we messed up |
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off that best stuff that fits up in yo' Dutch |
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Situation like this you get blown to bits |
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****** with this Brick lyricist more complex than the Pyramids |
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Here it is Strictly Biz like small print |
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In between them bong hits, we drop the strong *************t |
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Chickenheads say, "Who him?" with ****** up Timb's |
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Knotty fro and baggy denims, spendin up the Benjamins |
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in city tenaments, the Boom Skwadron odd man |
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Don't give a ************* like Rodman ("What are you doing?") |
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With no rings like Patrick Ewing ("What?") |
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still I play hard regardless |
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Acquitted from the charges throwin darts up at the heartless |
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Aimin for your brain, Tame One, one of the darkest |
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Brown like the chocolate, poppin your metropolis |
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Chorus: Fatal Hussein |
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Around my way, all they do is shoot dice all day |
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Escapin secret indic******ents, gettin nice all day |
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Don't let em fold ya, Outlawz, the Getto Star soldiers |
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Give this letter to the President, before this *************t is over |
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(repeat 2X) |
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(Fatal Hussein) |
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When Hussein aim, puttin they brains on walls like Tame name |
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Blastin these mother*******s cause they just can't maintain |
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Y'all plain Jane's gel in the ?Well's? county of Sing-Sing |
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Me and Young Noble, got em strung hold em for hostage |
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Lyrics verbally toxic, spit like doubled edged optics |
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My *************t is milk, wearin silk *************rts with chocolates |
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Y'all broke and can't cop *************t, I get, physically fit |
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on some evil eye ready to die *************t |
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This Thug *************t, *************z get beat down and shot up |
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I saw this one *************, get stolen on and your soul got up |
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Stolen car, roll past the bar, toured a lot of city |
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Gave him an eighth and he cooked his whole product |
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It's a shame how you cowards change the game for narcotic |
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You don't get it, don't got it, the love of money get exotic |
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If you old you get shot at, and can't walk the streets |
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without gettin your lil' money hungry soft ass spot |
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Chorus |
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(Fatal Hussein) |
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We adapt to the system like ?Eddie Bap? on mission |
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Get an ounce of izm, two six-packs, and kid listen |
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Just a dip on the task, my little *************z on the ave |
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Do a bid and laugh, come home and cop a half |
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Hit me with twenty hundred, what you got was fronted |
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Now run it, I got this ****** drug spot where I want it |
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So don't be dissin new, when you ain't got *************t to do |
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Five thousand dollars, charge free, right out municipal |
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(Tame One) |
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*************z get played off to the left like they was southpaws |
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Toss you to the Outlawz, then let them shoot it out |
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for what you clock for -- got more than you expected |
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When I inject correct *************t, it gets hectic |
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****** comin up with that next *************t, Thug *************z and bugged *************z |
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Luce? steel is tight, I'm straight up like midnight |
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We burn mics on turnpikes, we swervin through the lanes |
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We throw chains at *******, it's back to New Jeru to get these riches |
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Chorus |
