[Yeah hehehahaha, we goin platinum nigga! Plaahahatinum.]
Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherf*cker
We got my nigga Treach from Naughty by Nature in this motherf*cker
My nigga Apache up in this motherf*cker
Verse One: Tupac
My Mossberg goes boom, gimme room, can I catch it
Talkin quick and then I vic just tryin to keep from gettin blasted
I had enough I put a hit upon them bastards
Boo-yaa! Turned a snitch into a casket
Now they after me, prowling for a niggaz bucks
Time to see, who's the G, with the bigger nuts
Buck buck, big up and livin reckless
Niggaz with a death wish step in with a Tec and I'll wet this
Yeah this shit is hyper
Two to one I'm writing representing and I'm striking like a viper
Huh, I got my mind made up, I got my nine
Ring the alarm, and strong arm must run
Some niggaz need to feel me with a passion
I'm old fashioned, run up on me nigga and get blasted
With five deadly venomz
(Yeah 'Pac, f*ck that, still hittin em up with
that old deadly shit. Aiyyo Treach where you at?
Step up and hit they ass up with the wickedness.)
Verse Two: Treach
We come to hit you with a sock full of Brooklyn
to the Onyx of your nose, punk is funky like skunk blunts
Stunk like funk c*nt
I come to take you on a war rough and rugged route
And if another doubts I blow your f*ckin mother out
And that's the street scarred style
I shout I'm-de-MC-wit-de-nasty-mouf, and kick the bitch out
Sue me? I pay the lawyer for ya oh boy yeah
Plus my style's ten to twenty f*ckin pounds more
I take you quicker than a picture of a punk ya pickin shit
pickin pockets with a razor stoppin Russian rockets
Not shoplift, I'm liftin shop
Once