Onyx - Face Down Lyrics
[intro]Yo ***** that word up man! (word to mother yo)Who you runnin wit? (afficial nast!)***** that, who you runnin wit? (afficial nast!)[fredro starr]YoIm goin straight for your head to leave you headlessEyes of redness, I spray rap cats, to burn the lead tipsPoint blank range, I take aim, blow your brain out the frameEight shotsll touch ya, spit ya physical structureMother*****er this is lyrical destructionPath of disaster face nast, comin at cha full blastAnd capture grabs your last, breath like the asthmaCouldnt care less, you approachin near deathMy hollow tips, rip into your vest politic, with the fearlessThe devil himself, a rebel in himselfTrapped in america, assassinate your character, slaughter yaTwenty more holes, in your nautica, ***** all of ya!What? ! bringin mcs, yeah, callin yaLivin like a nigga with six months to liveOn the edge of life, wouldnt think twice, to make a sacrificeDo a heist, ya niggaz aint true to life, my whole crew is trife!So bring your wildest nigga reppin for your teamTear his ass to his spleen, this is suicide queensWhere gats bust, cutthroat, cross collateralGatll shatter you, feel the pain, its unimaginableSelf shit, straight from the hood, the dirty black shitRap shit, get your back ripped, plus the gat spitLoad it and ***** it bag, on thirty-two tracksMurder you in raps, let my wild dogs bust the cats!Styles leave the best dead, I stay breast-fedAnd when I die, be handcuffed, to my deathbed{*scratched face down on the pavement -> ll cool j*}[sticky fingaz]Sticky fingaz sneak up, when you least expect itI never ***** ***** thats yeast infected***** a brain fry, make me think irrationalIf I even think you schemin, you know Im blastin youIm too raw; what is you - out you gourd?I cut through any challenger, top notch or amateurYoud rather be in the projects butt-ass with a hundred gs cashAnd no gun, than to ***** with sticky, fredro n sonYou lookin at one desperate nigga, you shouldnt mess withI had a doctor scared to remove a bullet from yo intestinemember when I tested, this nigga manhoodTo see if he was a true nigga, so I pulled out my gunGave some dramatic ass speech then, pulled the trigger{*click*} ha hah! barrel empty, joke on you jackHe cold pissed his pants, blew his cover, he a new jackYou know where Im comin from, most my niggaz pump n jumpAnd when its time to dump and run, I never jump the gunOr get cold feet, I hold heatYa niggaz dont know me; in six hours I made up four yearsGot high shit for your ears;Sorry somethin that I never felt yo, fingertips made of velcroYou talkin shit like its a little gameThats now how we get down - beef is my middle nameSo dont die over nonsense, I aint got no conscienceCome out your face you gettin shotEverything Im spittin hot - I need fame without the breadLike I need a hole in the headAdd insult to injury, you cant ***** with meGuess thats not your cup of tea - Im every star I meetIf you are what you eat, ***** the rookies, rejectsPlainclothes and detectsI had a hard life, grew up too quickBut kept it tight with my true click, startin a new flip***** you frontin for? I seen your bagWith your tail between your legAfficial nast in the house that mean you dead!{*scratched face down on the pavement -> ll cool j*}[sonsee]You takin a ride, in the ambulance, you catch mad damages***** the hammer shit, leave you los(t) like angelesYou aint brick, or stucco, or paper macheteWhatever you got, get taken away, youre bakin todayTrust that, its time to crush cats, when I bust rapsI rush tracks, and oft act, buckwild!Army comin through here nigga, truck style!***** you! ***** the judge! ***** trial!Im givin niggaz shattered egos, I keep foesOr a pet bet they small threat, make em eat those!Deep goes my depth, sleep hoes get wetIf that aint enough, we come through and hose your shitHit you with the fireworks, you see the stars banginI really bang you, and prepare you for gods angelsIts not on humble, but some shit you cant come throughNigga try to blow he gotta go, and now you knowExperience, from the furious, eeriestDead serious, hysterias, fillin ya, interiorWith nervousness, for your servicesWe cuttin off your circulation and deaden ya purposes!We them niggaz you cant ***** with, rain or shineAll mics I slain yo kind, changed the mindOf those thinkin of playin theyrself, nextIs etched, in stone, you mother*****ers gettin blown!{*scratched face down on the pavement -> ll cool j*}
