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Onyx
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1
[Intro]
2
Yo Fuck that!
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Word to mother yo
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Who you runnin' with? AFFICIAL NAST! Fuck that!
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Who you runnin' with? AFFICIAL NAST!
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[Fredro Starr]
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Yo I'm goin' straight for ya head to leave you headless
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Eyez are redness I spray rap cats to burn a lack tips
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Point like rain I take aim blow ya brain out the frame
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Eight shots'll touch ya spit ya physical structure
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MUTHAFUCKA this is lyrical destructure!
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Path from disaster, face Nast comin' at ya
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Full blast, I catch ya fragile ass, breath like ya astma
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Couldn't kill less, you approach your near death
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My hollow tips, rip a kid that's politic, with da villains
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The devil himself, a rebel in himself, trapped in America
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Assassinate ya charachter, slaughter ya
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Twenty more holes in ya (norica?), FUCK ALL OF YA!
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What?! Bringin' MC's, YEAH, callin' ya
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Livin' like a nigga with six months to live
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On da edge of life, wouldn't think twice, to make a SACRIFICE!
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To a hoist, ya niggaz ain't drew to life, my whole crew is trife!
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So bring ya wildest nigga rappin' for ya team
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See his ass who was clean, this is Suicide Queens
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Where gats bust, cut rope, cross Callahtaru
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Gather shatter you, feel the pain, son imaginable
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Self shit, straight from the hood, the dirty black shit
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Rap shit, get ya back ripped, plus the gat spit
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Blown in the cockred bag, or 32 tracks
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Murder you in raps, let my wild dogs bust the CATS!
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Styles leave the best dead, I stay breast-fed
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And when I die, be handcuffed til my deadbag
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[Chorus] *Sample from "Rampage"*
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[Sticky Fingaz]
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Sticky Fingaz sneak up, when you least expect it
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I never fuck pussy, that seed's infected
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Fuck a brain frie, make me think he rational
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If I even think you sceamin', YOU KNOW I'MA BLAST YOU
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I'm too raw, what issue out your gore? I cut through any challenger
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Or top macho immature, you'd rather be in the Projects
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But an ass, where's a hundred G's cash
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You know gun, in the fuck with Sticky, Fredro ' Son
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You lookin' at one desperate nigga, you shouldn't've messed with
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I had a doctor scared, movin' (----)(?)
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'Memba when I test it, this nigga manhood
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To see if he was a true nigga, so I pulled out my gun
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Gave some dramatic asspiece, and pulled the trigger
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Haha! Barrel empty, joke on New Jack
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He cold, pissed his pants, pulled his cover, he in New Jack
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You know where I'm comin' from, most of my niggaz pump ' jump
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And when it's time to dump and run, I never jump the gun
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Or get cold feet, I hold heat, ya niggaz don't know me
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And six hours are made of four years
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Got high shit for your ears, sorry somethin' that I never felt yo
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Fingatips made 'em fell chrome, you talkin' shit like it's a little game
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That's now how we get down, 'beef' is my middlename
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So don't die over nonsense, I ain't got no conscious
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Come out ya face you gettin' shot, everything was spittin' hot
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I need fame without the bread, like I need a hole in the head
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And insult the injury, you can't fuck with me, guess that's not ya capuchi
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I'm every star me, if you haul what you eat, fuck the rookies rejects
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Play close and detects, I had a hard life, grew up too quik
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But kept it tight with my true clique, I start in a new flip
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Fuck you're frontin' for? I seen back, what you tell between your leg
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Afficial Nast in da house to meet 'em dead!
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[Chorus]
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[Sonsee]
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You takin' a RIDE, in da ambulance
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You catch mad damages, cock the hammer shit
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Leave you Los like Angeles, You ain't brick, my stock-o
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But paper my shit, whatever you got, to take in da way
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YOU'RE BAKIN' TODAY, trust that, it's time to crush cats
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When I bust raps, I rust tracks and oft act, BUCKWILD!
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Army comin' through, hear nigga, DRUNK STYLE!
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FUCK YOU! FUCK THE JUDGE! FUCK TRIAL!
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I'm givin' nigga shatter ego's, I keep fools
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On pet bet face more threat, MAKE 'EM EAT THOSE!
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Leave goals my death, sleep ho's get wet
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If that ain't enough, we come through and hold ya shit
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Hit you with da FIREWORKS, you see the stars BLINKIN'
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I really BANG THEM and prepare you for God's ANGELS
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It's not a humble, but some shit you can't come through
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Nigga try to blow he gotta go, and now you know
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He's fearin', from the fearious, irious, dead serious, high styrious
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Feelin' ya, interior, wait nervousness for ya services
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WE CUTTIN' OFF YOUR CIRCULATION, AND DEAD IN YA PURPOSES!
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We them niggaz you can't FUCK with, friend will shine
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All mics I slang (--), change your mind
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Of those thinkin' they playin' theirself, NEXT is ACTION
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Ya stole, you muthafuckaz gettin' CHROME!
91
[Chorus]
Onyx - Shut 'Em Down ft. DMX
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