Fes Taylor - S.I.N.Y. Flow Lyrics
f/ Hue Hefna, King Just, Lon Dini, Lot-a-Nerv, Milla, Pa Bazil[Lon Dini]What you thought I messed with cub scout thugs?You pay niggaz to ride, mines do it for loveBefore you niggaz could look up and think, I'm bombing you againThought you was the only hot shit to come out of Shaolin?Spill truth like the scripture, paint ill picturesTo them dudes that violated, believe I'ma get youNever forget, won't stop 'til Lon dropping stiffA gifted lyrical wizard, flow is explicitWho is it? Dini in here, don't ever compareLike an unstoppable force you can't get near*****ed up, shitted on the borough that made youYou sold millions, now the radio don't even play you[Hue Hefna]I'm a gentleman, with the mind of Adolf HitlerAnd I'ma shine like E.T. waved his fingerWith a customized Z-3 to cake up, niggaNo plastic surgeon or scalpel, fix ya face up, niggaIn the hood I be pitching base (yeah)I'm from the hood where Y. died, B. Ghost and the cops killed CaseAnd that ***** Brown still got promoted***** the hip-hop police, this verse, nigga I wrote itAnd the glock you should know that I tote itIt don't take a scientist to hit the block, son, I bubble like potionI am, Young Hefna, the voice of the new eraMe and money go together like milk and AmarettoWho you know do it better?Won't stop 'til the S.I. get their Groove Back sorta like StellaHating, you a jealous type of fellaI clap you in the ear and make you faggots go deaf like Helen Keller[Milla]*****ing with Milla, you guaranteed to loseI push your wig so far back you make the headline newsLook, my whole set Beneeni so guard ya neckNever easy with Tecs, be easy, that'll put you to restWhen war's on, home boy, have on more than a vestYou gone, hollows eating through your bones and fleshI could show you how we do it the bestPull it on the strip with Mitchell and SHand-to-hand all day like I'm boxing with vetsKeep birds in check like I work at a vetListen home boy, the .40 cal'll take off half of your chestLook boy, I will put you to restLook, soft niggaz gon' stunt, I'ma back outWhen could try to run, little boy, when you see that chrome Mack outIt be a wrap when them hollows eat ya back outI'm a boss, I could easily back outHave my set spaz out, flags out, mags outFans first so you know we shutting down routesMy team all about getting cash, getting assBeef, I'ma split ya mask, yeah boy, take ya stashY'all niggaz strictly ass, I'll squeeze the pistol fastIn the kitchen, baking soda, fishscale, whip it fast[Pa Bazil]Fear Factor, ultimate punisher, it's the slasherOne fourth of The Milli' and rap broadcasterCatch all bastards, call it a wide tyrantSex, drugs, hip-hop, food and more violenceOne resolution this year, it's more collegeTwenty-eight and I'm a grown-ass man, you all childishI got a history for hustling and violenceAnd don't get knocked, and witnesses keep it silentPeace to the mommies that's all sexy and vibrantLoving when a nigga be thugging or straight 'tiringThat's why I'm glad I went the direction that I didShit wasn't planned but it worked out for my kidsAnd I'm in a class with myselfAbout half a block away from the wealths and top shelf shitGet dealt with, bent backwards and belted*****ing with the top of the charts, darts'll melt it'Cause what I do is leave 'em Blue like SelsenNigga better fall the ***** back and wait 'til Hell come'Cause even in a million yearsThey'll be feeling fear, I'ma die a millionaire[Lot-a-Nerv]Yo the bang out, ease T.G. with the gang routeHomey have give to the top, I'm on the same routeNames pout, *****es that snitch they get a chained mouthFramed out, you don't want Real to pull them things outKnowing I'm that six and arrow, raise, lick six and explodeShots blaow, and crack ya coconut, yoHave ya ***** in the back giving coke in her thongI'm a pimp, I could have ya moms open her homeWanna flow? Go go go, charge twenty a barRoll the 'dro so high, go me flowing with GodWrite it down in the booth, got me spitting it hardI'm sick contageous like I'm kissing with SARSDifferent from y'all, Nerv Mauseberg on the hipMine swerve when it spit, it could leave you herbs in a ditchI sold perp, urge thick when I'm working the fifthIt'll push ya skin back like uncircumsized dicks, get it?[Fes Taylor]Never went to college, out working on degreesSo I'm standing on the block, got crack working for mePicture me working at Mickey D's, rolling up sticky weedRun to Disney World, tell Mickey "Freeze!"Listen, I keep my wrist wrappedAnd if ya girl count the diamonds in my bracelet you'll never get ya ***** backWhether it's soft or hard white, I pitch thatAnd I don't talk, I start fights with impactI rope a nigga, hogtie to a kidnapSimilar to how Specman caught a bid flatThis is real shit when you hear the kid rapFans all happy again like B.I.G. backName anything about bread, I'm with thatCool *****es, when you drive what I drive you get thatPut five up, me and my homies'll split thatYou been wack, rap license revoked, give ya pen backI've been trapped in the pens with crackServed fiends, blowing the bean like I'm still with the PackIf they ask, "Yeah I'm still with the Pack"That Stat's still on the map, Two-Forty nigga on the Killah Hill track[King Just]Well it's the one man handstand who always hits grand slamsK.J. can can fly heads like Pan AmTaliban fam fly right out of the quicksandWanna be like P. Diddy and make my own BandOn Staten Is-land I cram, don't understandYou ***** around with us and get robbed Van DammeShit don't jam when it come to a jamYo my rhymes is like weight and every word is one gramOn to Peter Pan, Hannibal Smith, he got plansYou lie about Black Sheeps it's Silence of the LambsWolf Pack, we pack more guns than PakistanPark Hillians, damn right we ***** fansI am what I am and that's all that I amTote so much heat I'm able to give tansOut the boiling water into the frying panIt's the man in command in heavy demandIn my B-Boy Stance, call an ambulanceI told him gangstas don't dance, he should've known in advanceHigh stance, whatever battery got you ampedYou don't wanna start no shit and the cops'll pitch ya campGive light like a lamp, pick ya pockets like pantsI ain't Slim Thug but ***** around with me and be a slim chanceYou're sweet like a fragrance you weak niggaz say "Wah"Now I shut ya shit down like *****ing cigarettes manMr. Set-Trend, ain't no replacementThe rapper that inspired truth, I replaced himThe Legend Killa, none iller, Park HillerRap realer, shooting threes like Reggie MillerDarth Villa, I don't even ***** with you niggazSaying you the best on DVD, how you figure?Nigga, to beat the best you gotta go against the bestCome to think about it, I ain't seen you ***** niggaz yetFrom the 10304 where the guns go offCopping ten or more Dutches at the PLO storeAnd I'm out... {*warrior chanting*}
