Оригинален текст
Fredro Starr
Yo! Turn that s**t up, word up!
Afficial Nasty ...fk Dat!
Ya is dead-ass!
Know what I'm sayin'?
We're payin' my ' All City 'n s**t!
Word up! Yo Mega, fck Dat!
Rip that Brooklyn s**t nigg*!
J. Mega, (Fredro Starr)
What? What? What? What? What? What?
My fleet goals, by da creep cold
We blaze, y'all won't see those, you just feel 'em
We raise the states in this game, like helium
The new millenium, got me in mo' for killin' 'em
Green backs, I want a mil (of) 'em!
But don't minimum, strictly max out, the ol's put the black out
be frontin', we take the back rob
Now stay with that style, original, wanna act wild?
City puttin' cartracks out, as we stack now
We're nuthin' to match out, formula
See it clearly through my corner-ya
This goes out to on the corner, Mega's on ya
Rap performer, no diploma, I'm sippin' on Corona, keep my carpet Coma
The East New York Soldier, what?
(fk Dat! That's the All City s**t!
Yo Greg Valentine!)
Greg Valentine, (Fredro Starr), Sticky Fingaz
Yo, the bees be rushin' like petrees(?)
You better had that bulletproof vest under ya fleece
Then a clever sceam up ya slees, we has to say delease
Between the thugs and the police, s**t'll never be peace
Cause holiday, raise ya weights ya hourly rate
We poly for higher states, buyin' fire escapes
See this, criminal life is like a 'roll it in dice'
holdin' they ice, wild bust on a slice
Yo it's too often too hot, in this ghetto meldin' pot
Put out these f*gat as* try to steel what I got
As if, that ain't enough, for Jakes is ratin' the spot
Where we eat at, but tonight that's where they bleed at
That belone her with the flame, throwin' their rain, it's over
Prayed to Jehova, jiggaz up, the game's over
(All City what, All City what?! fck Dat!
Yo Sticky) wassup nigg*?( Come here nigg*, fck Dat!
Let these muth*fkaz know nigg*!!!) I want some NEW s**t!
(Afficial Nast! What?!!)
Sticky Fingaz, (Fredro Starr)
Oh ooh, here the thug come, from out the dungeon
Say goodbye to ya love one, you can't heard from, the dumb dumb
Kickin' WACK s**t! I cut out ya tongue son! I'm in this rap s**t for the LOVESONG!
Who can stage as soon as the blunt's out? YOU DON'T WANT NONE!
But regardless, readin' WILDEST, you get da MILDEST!
I muth*fkin', muth*fkin' murder, want charges!
You off getargets, kill any rap artist!
Still hate ya GUTS!, and hope that ya DIE!
If you're not Allah, then yo' as* gotta FRIE!
Soon as life is for a life, without no remorse
You fked up BIG TIME, you should've finished me off nigg*!
(What?! fck Dat! fck Dat!
Afficial Nast what up?!
Yo Lefty, I got a new nigg* for ya !
Yo fck Dat! Step up and s**t....)
Bubba Smith, (Fredro Starr), X-1
I roll with gat-swingers, that bay arms like tanktops
A bunch of problem bringers, that an as* bet ya wanna make your bank stop
Guaranteed to make ya block hot, we runnin' the spots
We're tired of j*zzle 'n rocks, we straight up fkin' in villains or jachts
Got the Big Apple on smash like mobbs, we're livin' hell really?!
So we just vanish 'n rob, paper tellin' me we all dyin' from a leg docs(?)
So fk it, it's even get it get-got, so what?!
Bring it, I'm closin' now shut, I don't give a fcK about gettin' popped
Them thugs probably heard, left these two guns is al lot!
It's my time to go, playa, I'm tryin' to go spittin' you
For the dolies, just press G-O
While shoot outs, reachin' for the glocks, on my way to gettin' drugs
Still spittin' ya, 3-60 pill, I was drugged up, in a sixth still s**tTIN' ya
Call it murder, besides anybody TRY to here missin'
(fk Dat! Yo X -1 nigg*!) What nigg*?
(Ya betta fkin' do this s**t nigg*!) What what, what, what?!
(fk Dat! Afficial Nasty !
fkin' takin' this streets! That is dead!)
X - 1, (Fredro Starr)
All you crack , I don't even like your style
If it wasn't for love, you be dead right now
Speak upon the gun nor, X is layin' it down
Dirty two rounds, sprayin' ya town
Takin' dirt back under the ground, be a man, take ya laws
Die with the sacred course, six's bein' deep on the basic floors
(They hate that s**t nigg*! What?!
Kick the our fkin' s**t! fck Dat!)
Be a hard rock and see where you end up 'bout
Before my hart stops, kid I'm tryin' to see some jacks
You better get dropped dog, just read the facts
Dig a gunshot, at least about bringin' you back
I run in cold spots, or walk that for liquid cats
X critical source, with criminal thoughts, under the physical laws
Your visual lost, X-million now, nigg* tripple the course
I cripple your boss, what?!!
Fredro & Sticky Fingaz
fk Dat! Afficial Nast nigg*!
fk Dat! Afficial Nast nigg*!
fk Dat! fck Dat! Afficial Nast nigg*!
fk Dat! Afficial Nast nigg*!
Word up! fkin' All City!
muth*fkin' Onyx!
muth*fkin' Fredro Starr talkin' to you nigg*!
fkin' Sonsee nigg*! What da fk is up?!
Yo Sticky, wassup nigg*?! Gangreen in this muth*fka!
Bubba Smith 'n s**t! Back da fk up, everybody up!!
My nigg* too dirty up in this muth*fka! (Know what I'm sayin?!)
DJ LS, Afficial Nast nigg*! fck any DJ,yo fck Dat! (Any DJ nigg*! Afficial Nast!)
Word up, fck Dat! don't know! My muth*fkin' broher is sayin', fck Dat!
Big Chris, fck Dat! ain't seein' s**t! Afficial Nast! Yo eat 'em up!
Get da fk up outta here! (*Car rushin' away*)