[Verse One] [Saigon]:

If I cock the biscuit, somebody gettin' a doctor visit

Listen to 2Pacalyspse and flip it how 'Pac predicted

A young death but still optimistic

My survival instinct will make me go rob the district

Spit an ox get a grip, rip you from your eyelid to lip with the bitter tip

Your shit will drip a lot more than a little bit

Your scar pa?

Uh huh, you will never get rid of it

Not even laser surgery will conceal your disfigurement

Stupid head, my niggas will mark you for dead

Pop lead, watch the hollow head slug particle spread

Sorry savage I'll introduce you to body baggage

Have the new body maggots eat you like crab ?

Y'all rappers is average my status miraculous

From Paris to where ever my dad is

I embarrass the bad

He pathetic, he inherited weak genetics

P alphabetics, fill it to speed at 1,120 feet per second

Makes a part of my fate to scar the Tri-State

Y'all niggas get ate, broke down to a carbohydrate

Saigon, Scram Jones

He violate, I ain't gon' make no damn poem

I'mma break that man bone

[Verse Two] [Nino Bless]:

Look I'm nice when I spit

I don't care if you got hype and you rich

I got the illest MC's rewritin' they shit

You and me?

It's like comparing a four star to a deli

Belly to Goodfellas or Hoodfellas to Biggie

B.I.G.'s flow to Diddy's

Or comparin' the 'burbs crime rate to the south side of any city

Or Yayo to 50's

Lil' Wayne's wordplay to Pun's dead-in-the-middle-of-Little-Italy scheme

Lyrically you ain't fit for the game

You ain't shit, I mean literally, you a walkin' shit stain

Talkin' like you did things

You not the gangsta, you just tell they story like Ving Rhames

And now we ain't the same, you and I sonny

Since I've been on, who took the light from me?

You nice? Get it right dunny

I've been dope since 'Pac was sportin' a Gumby dancin' behind Humpty

So this rap shit is light money

I hustle whatever the weather, whether it's night, sunny

I'm here movin' anything that brings dough

You can tell I hustle, I cop everything with singles

And I done been so broke totin' a fifth, locin' for chips

No angle, no hope to get rich

So lay low nigga, watch how you approachin' a spic

I'll clip the halo off the angel watchin' over you bitch

You niggas don't want it, don't even try

Get your weight up homie, you under size

Nino Bless, Scram Jones and Sai

Throw Crooked I in the mix and this alliance is sick

[Verse Three] [Scram Jones]:

I'm sick as scarlet fever, spittin' bars with ether

For the none believers, I'mma put it down like some carpet cleaner

In my Nature, gettin' pussy with my father's features

I'm not a player but get brains like a Harvard teacher

While these rappers are just cartoons like Bart and Lisa

All they do is bubble a little like Orangina

I've been doin' this since Mistadobalina

Way before the beef between Fif' and Don Cartagena

Before the haterade never used to taste the shade

Now dudes will cut you like they play Spades with razorblades

I'm at the airport changing clocks like Flava Flav

Still I love New York more than Tailor Made

Give NY power cause dudes is type coward

So I'mma put a cape on my back like Dwight Howard

Too busy shoppin' the tracks I couldn't take the time out

Watchin' dudes cop more crack than Amy Winehouse

Now I'm in the stoop, cookin' somethin' awful

And I ain't gonna stop till we pop and we all full

So we cuttin' up the pizza make the dough fast

Keep the money in the freezer, all we want is cold cash

The beat peddler in the street sector

Known to speak clever and rip like cheap leather

They say he a movie, more like the director

On the mic I O.D. like Heath Ledger

[Crooked I talking]:

It's your boy Crooked

C.O.B

[Verse Four] [Crooked I]:

Idiot W's up with my thumb cuffed

Must I stick my dick in a dumb slut

Just to illustrate you a dumb fuck?

A young buck

Me and my guns love struck

Get hit with the Magnum like Enter The Dragon nun chucks

Noon chucks, soon as the moon's up

Me and my platoon movin', assume that it's boom's up

With the .45's I carry, I bury my adversaries

Like lies buried in the library

See I'm sick as a witchdoctor

Pickin' which Glock to click pop ya

Sick as script written by Hitchcock

Or lyrics gettin' spit by Big Poppa

Leave a vic hoffa, stick me, I drip Vodka

Fo' fif' cocker

I'm a clique shocker/Chaka

Zulu, stickin' my chest out like a chick's knockers

Bitch, I spit lava

And I rock enough ice to entice a slick robber

But nigga you gets nada

All you get is murdered then dressed in a silly disguise

Since you a clown, it's a fitting demise

Yeah Crooked calls shots man, wigs can goosh

I don't know how fiction looks, just the licks, the jooks

The accountant to fix the books

The foot soldiers to push prescription kush

We just like the system; crooks

So fuck the cops and the warden

I spit for my niggas to make history like when Iverson crossed over Jordan