J-Live - Wax Paper Lyrics
Check, turn up my mic a littleYeah, a little more, I gotta be kinda low on this oneYo, as I start from scratch about this born suspect named NicA street legend, pulling hits was his infatuation>From birth his first spoken word was "Tech"So by the age of 12 you could guess what would dominate his conversationHe had a twin brother borns in the partOne was dark, one was light, neither was rightTaking turns letting off shots to move crowdsWith the needlepoint aim and the infrared sights so they ruled the nightHis tone arm stayed tipped with the nickle-platedSo even in the crossfire they were never fadedIt was debated but the still play was overratedBut they negated all competitors that tried to state itVery few crossed the line and made itWithout a scratch, for every new batch there was a new catchOften, people asked Nic why his revolver wouldn't stopHe replied "Everybody wants me in the coffin"His pitch ass tried to get live at a red lightHe received 33 from a 45By the green light, the change in his heartbeat tempoProved to Nic that nobody was exemptSo, he took his game from the PJ centersTo the clubs, constantly getting caught up in the mixSlipping through the fingers of the systemWaiting in the cut to see who'll be the next man to try and diss himTil one day, Nic was playing sniper againQuiet but deadly, picking off his prey from the roof whenAll of the sudden he had the illest visionIt got him amped, he stood up straight and started woofingHis twin bro simply had no ideaThat the killer Nic was reevaluating his careerWhen his thought process made him defiantEquilizing similar victims from one major clientThe concept hit him in a FlashThere was much more to this lifestyle led than petty cashBut his brother just couldn't understandThat every move they made was planned by the unseen handSo Nic flipped the script from the new to next schoolTransformed the game and rearranged the rulesSelf-employed, but quest made a transitionCornered the market by taking out your competitionWell Nic's brother didn't have the same ambitionHe'd rather catch his victim than his fellow suspectsBut he agreed something had to change so as they discussed thisHe realized his life like "Poetic Justice"So Nic's right hand man broke leftTo become one of the well-known 5 Fingers of DeathSimilar ends with new means and motivationCause now it's volunteer work to vent his frustrationThey both grew with time and skills became refinedAt once saw it's essential to read between the linesThey both like to see their prey deadBut one was addicted, to seeing a pale body filled with leadSee Nic's brother had a signature moveSo folks would know he was the one out to get 'emIt's like he pulled the trigger to the rhythmJust to make you think that your fate,was signed and sealed in permanent inkAnd don't let the motive be anything more than cold-bloodedCause then he'll put two times the effort in the caperWhen diamond-tipped shells will drop jewels in your domePull out your heart, and wrap it up in wax paper
