Lyrics:
Artist: Flesh-N-Bone f/ Big Punisher, Fat Joe
Album: T.H.U.G.S. (Trues Humbly United Gatherin' Souls)
Song: No Mercy
[Fat Joe]
Yeah, real
coming (8X)
Bo! Lickshot for the blood claat
talkin that what-not, Puba come and hit on the right spot
Rhyme teller for the ladies and the fellas
Bring your heater, all your C.R.E.A.M. go between us
Real shit, my Desert Eagle got a ill grip
I chill with niggas that hit Dominican spots and steal
block
Get my clique, load them things up in the van
Don't matter they in front the law we gon' blast
We creepin', sweepin' to catch these niggas
Snatch the airbag, hit the corner and park it
Corner the market, I got her tied up in a chair and gagged
Bitches get smacked and grabbed by the hair
(yes)
It's like that man, it's like that (yes)
Check it
I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never
all I do is chief
And facts are all I 'finna speak
Kai ain't got no filter, no
Cuz my brain it got a leak
I'm a freak! I'm a geek
Album only took
Where them naked hoes at?
E-Feezey!
Too Scheezy!
We off the heezy fo'scheezy baby!
Off the heezy I thought you theezy!!
Niggaz ain't
load my nine with 100 rounds
Sex money murder
On my album
They singing out of town
Miami nights in the S class
I remember
Yea it was a movie
Thought
"Brra-Tat-Tat" so you betta watch out
Ouch!
Bitch I got money too
"Trilla" album comin' soon
Triple C's, 305, B-O-E give us room
Whip the keys
Every time I spark up I catch a new a new vibe
(Deep breathe) Where did you go my love
(Ohhh) Been looking for yooooouuu
Been looking for you (Yeah)
these fantastic amalgams
Painting casket bound careers to pierce gunning with classic albums
Security's the javelin, catch it; labor
Clocked in at seven
I gotta shine
Gotta climb up that mountain
Music like fine wine
Hits flowing like a fountain
At the mountain top
Please don't let this flop
Coz it's
and flipped it hopped on a jet to smoke by the bay
All of this cash abundance I’m feeling myself baby what can you say
If you wanna learn how I’m living just
Cartier
I got homies knocked by police
I got homies knocked by police
I got homies knocked by police
They gone have to hit me up on the phone now
and the cops
Up at Fogo de Chao asking for lamb chops
And you can still catch me right here if this album flops
They posting they numbers like we can't tell they
flicks in it
But I'm not a pornstar, I hit the OnStar
I'm tryna find me some wet
Pussy and a long jaw
Fantastic, I'ma damn bastard
21 guns like I'ma damn
up with KB before you see
Us on a grime blog
We was on E wing, just Bousbaa and Blake
2012, I was free
I'm tryna deal, steal, cheat, I need to eat
Flex
on me
(Said I got my eyes on you!) You got your eyes on me
Get, hit with the thing and try to ride on me
[Styles P:]
I can't be humble, e
swinging
And yo, it isn’t gonna stop till that obese chick is singing
Pavarotti out a Maserati driven by me
No way in Hades you could fade J A R V, please
name hannah
Black and white bitches I call that hoe panda
Offended by my lyrics get out your feelings
Drop bout two albums you still ain't want hear it
to bloom
from pavement despite looming gloom accumulated by fumes.
Warn your county when the album drops
and watch how we split the ground for blocks.
I don't tell these stories that these other men do
Life is a bitch that's word to Az
First album made me fall in love with rap was Blueprint by Jay-Z
*drip**drip*, thats how the flow sounds
Go slow, otherwise you'll get a jump scare
Now you know, the reason that the speed bump's there
Oh no, hit the gas, car
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