[Intro/Chorus: repeat 6X]
1 motherf*ckin 2 motherf*ckin 3
"1, and here comes the 2 to the 3, and" - D.O.C
[Verse 1: Lakim Shabazz]
???? rappers are full of this
Since I'm a Don I'm pullin out a hit
Cos I'm fired up, I'm tired of all the bullsh*t
Flavor Unit, it's time to attack the prey
So make way for hip-hop's green beret
Bring on the refills, you see we feel
The name of the brain game is kill or be killed
I'm an expert, who will be the next j*rk to try?
Let me explain you got 8 million ways to die
We torch and scorch ya, make ya feel real sore
Have that ass lookin just like *?this boo-boo?* slipped the door
Known to kill, dunk skills, e-rupt
You ask why? My reply is 'I don't give a f*ck!'
I'm a Panther, I love fresh meat
After I kill ya, I'ma leave ya body across 110th Street
My tactics are drastic and real fast
I tie one to a truck and go drag ya ass
I'm more than a threat, I'm a problem
To hell with cotton, watch out when I come to Harlem
So don't whisper or make a sound or croak
sh*t ya prop, go straight back down ya throat
Everyday all day this be the hard way
Puttin rappers outta commission even on an off-day
Flavor Unit rules G, we're takin rappers out
1 motherf*ckin 2 motherf*ckin 3
Chorus (x3)
[Verse 2: Apache]
Here comes trouble and it's all that, in fact contact
You're next of kin, friend, follow the flow format
While you slip, I grips so expect to get bruised
Ask me if I give a f*ck cos I ain't got sh*t to lose
f*ck around, lay around and get stuck up
You beat me? Wait a minute, hold the f*ck up!
If I was deaf, dumb, blind, stupid, lame
Handicapped, crippled and "pus*y" was my middle name
You couldn't beat me slick, snap that neck like a Chico stick
I know who'll getcha quick (Who?) My di*k!
Tell me, is this some type of tournament?
I cut ya f*ckin head off and use it as a Christmas tree ornament
Come and give me a test whoever claims to be the best
Leaves with a 40-below footprint on his chest
f*cked up, got stuck, go press your luck
Both of his legs were found in back of a garbage truck
Head found in the bar of a limosuine
The rest of his body at a dump-site in Queens
Damn man, Mr. Handman, you like braggin
Ya f*cked up, made a wrong turn and entered the dragon
I told you I'm out to stalk
Last n*gga tried me, died G, felt my tomahawk
Apache, that's me, I'm gettin rappers' ass
1 motherf*ckin 2 motherf*ckin 3
Chorus (x4)
[Verse 3: Treach]
You coulda been my main sh*t but you scrap and will wack, black
The only thing I smoke witta pipe is an ass crack
You challenge Treach, I'll seal you quick, you can't touch that
I thought you did a triple cos you said "Aw, f*ck that!"
Diamond Hill how ya feel, *?hey Ben Hef?*
Give me a hearin aid or two then I'm thru cos I'm that def
That's how we all be, tighter than small leaves
Club rappin all be, I'm wreckin on all 3
This drill means chill, Guard Ya Grill, trouble
Is that your head or is your neck blowin a f*ckin bubble?
A-B-C, skip to the S-T
U-V-W-X, f*ck the Y-Z
Brand new, Brand Nubian, Grand Puba-in
Tape dem and cruise me then, if I'm wrong, sue me then
Wait let me hear another tune, tune me in
So I'm straight, if I hear "drop the bomb" I have to go
Break this nig' for anytime or any day, as many rhymes are played
Erase, forgive me not cos sh*t I'm hot, if I can get then you'll get got
Au contraire mon frere this is all my hair
I wouldn't cut it for the biggest butt-ocks out there
Put on a tip or hittin hips, I'm more than quick
I Grease my Lightnin', it's frightening how I get, a slick
Schooled, dark, cool Sagittarian
Two types of marryin: very thick or very thin
Naughty By Nature and the Flavor U-N-I-T
1 motherf*ckin 2 motherf*ckin 3
Chorus (x4)