Fes Taylor - Warriors Lyrics

[Intro: Jack Don]
Check one-two
Yeah, Stray Dogs/Two 4 War collabo
Shadow Government, check it
Uh, uh, check it

[Jack Don:]
Yo all I need is my liquor and weed
Rollin' dice on the stage, this my life for the world to see
I make it hard for you niggaz to breathe
I'm air tight with a mic, clutch ya throat then proceed to squeeze
I'm hard to please, easy to bribe
Take the panties off the baddest bitch then get in her thighs
No lie, cause I, practice G and get into jeans
While you actin' sweet and give 'em ya CREAM
American dream, get lost in the streets
Bounty hunter on the beat, quick to auction ya teeth
We cook beef, nigga (Cook beef, nigga)
What you claim is real is fake
Let the, guns come and raise the stakes
Erase ya face, replace ya space
Right in slings, now ya feel it in ya veins like a high-speed chase
The slums feelin' me, two tab twos and no trilogy
Flow like a pool of sharks, ain't no swimmin', see?
I could tell a cloud to fly
F*ck around and the rain fall a little, now the Sun in ya eye
Easy to die, switch sides sweeter than pies
Nigga I spit four tales that the listeners by
Jack and the Rye, maybe just jackin' a ride
Or some Jersey Drive shit with ya mother inside
Get ready to fry, lean left, V-twelve-I
Must say world play, multi times five
Inhale smoke, blow it up to the sky
Take another toke, take another vote, yeah slum's S.I.
Gaten Isle niggaz ready to ride
You could die tryin' to cop a weed bag, should've swallowed ya pride

[Chorus x2: L.I.S.]
My Warriors is the sickest click
Oh Two 4 Warriors
Straight from the Shao' and don't take no shit
My Two 4 Warrior fam

[Tommy Guns:]
Listen, nigga, you don't know me boy
Gettin' stuntin', catch somethin' in ya throwback boy
It must be the gangsta in me
That could make ya chest burn from them slugs like ya had shots from Remy
Can't stop the envy but there ain't no stoppin' 'em
Talk what ya talk dog
'Til I'm bustin' off rounds at you kids like the trenchcoat mafia
Nine styles, dog, you can't hold me grungin'
We can see how many slugs you can hold in ya stomach
Some little ass niggaz, you ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Every fiend on the block tryin' to hollar at me
So I'm cookin' up, dog, like Chef Boyardee
It's the T.G., the O.G., slugs you can hold three
Don't act like you know me cause I clapped ya hand
Cause I won't be thinkin' twice when I'm clappin' ya man
I cop grams by the body weight, hold down Gotti weight
Live ya life, dog, there's a chance you could die today
I get fried today, poppin' 'em down
Cause you niggaz gon' snitch when you hear that sound
Yeah...

[Chorus x2]

[Fes Taylor:]
Yo I'm the one you should fear, comin' prepared
I put you somewhere near people under the stairs
Gun thunderin' ears, lightnin' strikes
I'm nice on mics, pipin' ya wife, icin' the dice
I'm a high roller, bi-polar, hood made me psycho
Got a three mil' bail, on the run like Michael
Write a recite too, deeper than scriptures
In the Bible, from long distance, hit you with rifles
These haters is spitful, want me to flop
Artists and labels don't want me to drop
Scared that I'm better, they're stealin' they cheddar
Same ones frontin' like they wasn't feelin' Moneta
From four-wheelin' Berettas to pushin' Benzes
Throw diamonds in the lenses, corporate takeover
I buy in on ya business, Grinch Who Stole Christmas
Thief in the sandwich too, barrel glow like Rudolph's nose
When the cannon blew, Taylor man-handle ya boots
Smoother than shampoo, make sure the camera on view
Ya radio tuned, one for the money and two for the show
And three for these niggaz that be pimpin' these hoes
Man, y'all stupid bitches better get with the program
We f*ck bitches to rap so f*ck a slow jam
I'm the truth in the booth, move when I shoot
Wipe out ya family tree, executin' ya roots

[Chorus x2]

[Hook: L.I.S.]
Oh Oh Two 4 Warriors... Two 4 Warriors
Oh Two 4 Warriors... my Two 4 Warrior fam
[Fade]