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E.J.
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Verse 1:E.J.
Who am I?
I'm a basterd, I stolen off ya and blast at ya
Smokin' more blacks than the part time wars in Africa
I'll ?? out the martyrs for beef
Rest in piece alot of you reef(?) designing your greef
By snatchin' your brother, smackin' your lover
Paralizing your cousins, smokin' your mother's husbands
A dozen chosen showguns to shotguns
Roll up on you with no guns but still pop one
I bomb like napalm from the curb to your house
And "Please God" the last words out ya mouth
No affiliates, just dogs and troops
Most lyin' death than this morgue and roots
All we choose to beef, I bring spatulas
Flip it and throw it back at ya, so bring your gat with ya
Spectacular murder manufacturer, fuck binacular
Only heaters talkin, I'm trappin ya just to flattin ya
Hop in the accura, roll up on the back of ya
Chill out in 5, and then them niggaz act alive
I smoke branches from off the tree tops
I hang with real niggaz, PA's, PK's and Pete Rock
Y'all niggaz with pre-ops, spill blood and Reeboks
Don't discriminate blastin rookies on the e-box(?)
Your streetforce envolves just for excitement
Like if you wasnt you never heard of enditement
I sum it up quick so that you can understand me
Fuck you, your crew, your bitch and your whole family
Chorus:Nas
Bitch I ain't illin
I'll pull your fucking head off while your ass is winddillin'
Go heads the triggers of the penot scott villian(?)
Vericons(?) march, atleast shoot a million
Dirty Dozen the first week? at least a billion
Verse 2:E.J.Yeah yeah..
What's my motherfucking name? Royce Nickle Nine
A messiah of all, much higher than y'all, undeniably raw
Quick to blow the fuck up and reform again
The bomb threat re-occured, re-warn your men
I promise you get toared up and re-torn again
Not one slur or word will be re-born again
As long as the shit cracks and they turn a loop up
I spit it until it's pitch black and burn the roof up
Better step the fuck up for the shit getting spit
Turns to whips getting lit, turns to tick-tick-tick
Niggaz be rapping just for the clubs, just for the love
That hit you had in the club sound like shit in the truck
That's why I love that nigga X, cause he raised my brow
With every rhyme, without having to take my style
It'll be a cold day in hell when these two soldiers lay in hell
Talk to me
Chorus:Nas
Bitch I ain't illin
I'll pull your fucking head off while your ass is winddillin'
Go heads the triggers of the penot scott villian(?)
Vericons(?) march, atleast shoot a million
Dirty Dozen the first week? at least a billion
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