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Fat Joe - Jon Blaze - текст песни, видео

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Fat Joe - Jon Blaze - текст песни, видео

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Verse One: Nas 

My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence 
Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials 
Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal 
He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil 
Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, Catholics, preachers 
In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer 
In my own class, operation return, they tried to say 
I was incompetent, not able to learn 
The table turned now, got my own label to earn 
Like that nigga said in _Dead Presidents_, money to burn 
Queensbridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vet 
Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that 
I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest 
between Latin Kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in Spanish 
So many thugs vanish, unite the system 
to fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison 

Verse Two: Big Punisher 

My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die 
Just give me one try -- 'Now you know you done fucked up right?' 
Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa 
Hit the basa, you ain't even in my clasa 
I hate a actor that plays a rapper 
I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper 
Grand imperial college material insane criminal 
The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral 
I reign subliminal inside your visual 
Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical 
I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you 
Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you 
Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid 
out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter 
I'm even better than before, iller metaphors 
Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all 

Chorus: scratches by DJ Spinbad 

J-J-J-John Blaze 
Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze 
J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze 
Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed! --> Method Man 

Verse Three: Jadakiss 

Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around 
and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range 
Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame 
Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains 
Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim 
cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign 
Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya 
Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure 
Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for 
'Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up 
You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up 
Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show 
Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable 
Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans 
Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin 

Verse Four: Raekwon 

My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out 
Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out 
Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat 
in the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash 
The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear 
Strike me out God, stackin up joints, rack em like Footlocker 
This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent 
Here to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stall 
Relentless, the anthology consolidated 
with the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness 
Lex, imagination large, gold cards 
Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God 
Specialist, iciclist, Woolridge collar 
Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why 
broke niggaz who got heart God, sign em up 
Start the wind up, we John Blazin, Don up in the line up 


Verse Five: Fat Joe 

It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us 
Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers 
Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun 
Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn 
I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts 
for fuckin with my funds on the first 
And go to church like a mobster 
Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my Cuban partners 
Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot 
Run up on any block, disrespect any cop 
Used to run many spots, now I own shops 
Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop 
I'm hot, who wanna get burned? 
I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn 
You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day 
Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed 

Chorus 2X
Добавлено: 17.02.2014
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