Fes Taylor - I.C.U. Lyrics
f/ King Just, Leathafase[Intro: Fes Taylor (King Just)]I.C.U. (eheheheheheh) Two 4 WarThe King back on the throneHe sent his knight to strike[Fes Taylor]You want sixteen bars? I'd rather give 'em sixteen shotsSnitch niggas try to get me not, it's a bomb threatKillah Hill Vietnam vetI played in front of the club, stunting, leaning on a vetYou scheme, ***** it, then bust something, teach 'em respectWhen reaching for the tech, leave you bleeding to deathSee if you can reason with death, talk to the GrimreaperBlow you out your Timbs or your sneakersThey say talking is cheap, well you beefing to repAny little nigga, I put 50 g's on HefI only battle veteran rappers, so sickWhen I spit, doc said take medicine afterFes so incredible at this, I rap .9 earthquakesThat'll level the atlasStill Shaolin Stomp, move on 'em quickThey stay Two 4 War, like the modern day Two SixThey call me the Pro, hoes love the way that I flowDough I made from a show, destined to blow likeHand grenades, shove it like kids that's madePlay the blocks, I plan to get paid, likeRich and po', I'd rather be rich than poorPlay it cool, summertime, pitchin' snowMy wrist'll glow, you never seen this beforeSo many different colored diamonds, mixed in goldYellow and red, black and whiteKinda look like a racial fightAlright, I'm like Mike, giving facial bitesI'm a Wolf when I came through hypeYou afraid of the dark, scared of the darkMy goons full of water andI ain't talking bout Poland Springs and Deer ParkPut fear in they heart, tear 'em apartLike scubagear, wearing with sharks, wearing with sharks[Leathafase]Son, you straight *****ing, never crime being pitchedMy burner is hot fish grease, blow in your faceExplosive hollow tips, twisting skeleton with grace, make you post raceAnd your heart do the jello geletin shakeBaking two on coast sweaters, I inject the death threatMurderous musical melodies in your headseatBetter yet disconnect the life support, zipped it from your frameI'm hot, so the blood boils in my veinPop your top similar to a champagne bottleWhen I spit, feel the flames of an airplane's throttleNow I got your brains boggled, from my soundwaves blastingEardrums are beating, while reading in close captionedTook you to the ghost in Pac-Man with a mac-tenThirty two bullets in a clip when it's packed inClashing with the titans, as I shatter your glass chinOr get your face cut up like a DJ on the backspin[Outro: King Just]Security breached, security breachedBomb threat, security breached, it's seriousBomb threat, short fuse, let's go, security breachedBomb threat...
