Fire Water

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Big Pun

Christopher Lee Rios (November 9, 1971 – February 7, 2000), better known by his stage name Big Pun (short for Big Punisher), was a Puerto-Rican American rapper who emerged from the underground rap scene in The Bronx in the late 1990s. He first appeared on albums from The Beatnuts, on the track "Off the Books" in 1997, and on Fat Joe's second album Jealous One's Envy in 1995, on the track "Watch Out", prior to signing to Loud Records as a solo artist. Pun's lyrics are notable for technical efficiency, having minimal pauses to take a breath, heavy use of alliteration as well as internal and multi-syllabic rhyming schemes. He died from a heart attack at age 28. more »


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(That's how the east side gets down, word up!)

(4:30 in the morning, mira
You know what I mean, mira
Let's get this money sorted and counted, word
Know what I mean, dame te culo mami
Give me my shit back, mira, hey yo
Fat Joe and them is here now, word
Shine like marbles, collects diamonds
The remix, add on son
Politic for the real ones)

We get knots, like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one 
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

Yo, control this rap like Napoleon
Half-Mongolian, hold it, you owe me in
Rock 'em like linolieum, yeah
Lex, diamonds, shin'in like you rhymin'
929'n, Titanium glass, time to play that ass
Whirlwinds of French, come movin' intense
Time to pull again, release the shell,well
Make 'em yell again, so sleek
But I'm a be maxin' in suites
Countin' your paper and countin' your sheeps
Hittin' your chick in Jeeps
Miraculously, attack your faculty, who wanna tackle me?
You jack mack, kidnap 'em for free
What?, you got heat, you better pop those
We movin' like gestapos, through underground potholes
That rock those, much land discoveries
Chrome rims, sippin' bubbly
Who livin' lovily, half a brick to cover me
So dissin' me, come on now listen G, 
You's a dime I'm a key
Thun, thun straight out of Sicily
Now, back to the stash crib
Joey Crack baggin' up cracks
One love, give 'em Jeep bags, Kid!

We get knots, like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one 
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

Word life, I'll be the infamous
Who leaks the witnesses, crack's the wickedest
Run up in your crib, blast your kids
Ain't no myth in this, shit's official
I'll pistol-whip you with my Smith & Wesson
Cause my investin' was sendin rappers to heaven
Gives me an erection
You need protection from the smooth assassin
Who really moves at action, blastin' mothafuckas
Execution fashion
Now who's the fat one that you love to hate
Catch you at your mother's wake, smack you
Then I'll wack you with my snub 38
It doesn't take much to make me restless
Look at my face and definite lose your breath
Truck my face is Lexus
You want to test this, so really?, 
I'll make one call and have the whole WU comin' on the ferry
I'm very dangerous and well-connected
I puff an L with Method, then try to 
Decide who's next to fill his neck slit
So respected and admired the boss, retired your lost
Wu Tang, your terror squad, vaya con Dios!

We get knots, like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one 
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

You guys despise guys like us
Guys like us, disgust like Spartacus
You cuss and claim a bust
You lust for a part of us, you thrust
But can't touch 
Plus we far from any type of fellas you can trust
Put the pressure on the mic, I biz
Press to your chest, sound like sweat on my back
We're having sex, tight-ass flex
Pretty Pocahontas pussy sweet, like my new Tek
Sis' got curves like a GS, 300 Lex
My body's 95% alcohol, 5% cancer
Sosa diamonds, Getty, Lucci, blaze it up like Bonanza
Catch me in the cut, easy G's is burnin' my gut
As I Remember my menage au trois was mired by sluts
I questionmark your heart, punctuate your fate
All your version predicates 
Done as well as you pronunciate
In the (west)?,we're gonna break you off the isle
Take C.O.s hostage arab style, no surrender

We get knots, like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one 
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

Yo, I'm all about business and enterprisin'
Advisin' financial advisors on franchisin' the wider than horizons
Divisin' ideas with masterminders
Movin' on a stash of diamonds
First we get the cash, then we laugh like miners
Don't get me wrong I'm a funny bastard
But when it come to money, son, I'm not the one to laugh with
I'm after for what cash can bring me brothers 
Me and my demon lovers blast and laugh at hyenas
Back to Ringling Brothers believe them others
You's the best, yet, and still
I'm investin' mils on a hunch over lunch
Puffin' on a Chesterfield, who wants to test 
The real scandalous
I'm at the Sands in Los Angeles
Plannin' hits with an ananymous philanthropist
Spanish kids, close to God, like evangelists
Choppin' niggas up and makin' sandwiches....

Big shout to my man Raekwon, word is bond

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Written by: CHRISTOPHER RIOS, COREY WOODS, JOSEPH CARTAGENA, R LEMAY

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, Memory Lane Music Group (Foreign)

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    Fire Water

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