CNN Freestyle lyrics

by

Masta Killa


[Noreaga]
Tony Touch, Iraq, Iraq, 50 MC's...
A little bit a thugs is all it takes
To make this industry just brake *repeat*
What, what, what poison arrows
Swords and lords, yo, but really
My Mac-milly, spray n*ggas, lay n*ggas
Yo the Cognac, make you feel unbeatable
Yo, especially, when that ass drunk too much
I call up Tony Touch, Tony Touch bring the next dutch
Yo I'm all f*cked up, bent and can't think
While you both stink, don't even care that you sink
Yo impulsive, exclusive, high explosive
Can't even get with, sh*t I dealt wit
I'm on some other sh*t, my main script describe the foulness
Panama Canalness, what, yo, I, don't even talk so I'm far from the loudest
Kid, n*gga, can't touch this, rush this, yo what
[talking: yo, switch the beat, now, bless it]
What, I'm bout to f*ck sh*t up, what
f*ck it up *repeat 3*
f*ck IT UP f*ck IT UP f*ck IT UP, what what!?!
We on the lines like the internet
Many will come but few was chosen
Against my set, there ain't a n*gga yet
Smoke so much n*ggas say I need Nicorette
You say bogie, but you used to say cigarette
Now I know, a new religion, a new beginning
I own women, three-fourths rock and linen
This Middle East sh*t, father beat sh*t
Release this, the only place in the world, that pull out cracks pieces
We rock camels, split that ass in text
Yo we bag b*tches after we f*ck em and say thanks
Yo thanks for havin me, next week your straight grabbin me
Swearin they homeless, sayin that the havin me
I don't, wanna crawl at all
You wanna be a thug, you used to play ball
Runs the play for Seton Hall
Now, outta the blue, you got thug in you too
Yo I knew you, your size shoe was ?due in voodu?
Always, smell like sh*t, used to call you doo-doo
Never came oustide, in the crib you hide
Scared to death
While we played manhunt, to our last breath
I never chose this life, it chose me
What, LFC, heavy amount with jewelry
Crime Syndicate, n*gga livin this
Never mention miss ?
Smoke rain bodies, you had to saw before, before
Yo, you on my di*k, I had the lime green on
With the string on, with fatigue on
Fresh Avirex's, c*ckpit, now from the outlet
Jose Luis Emperor, two shots I blow ta Dillinger
No real Kings like John Dillinger, the politic
What, I'm on some ides in the militant
You either with me or against me
That in between sh*t make the money stop too intensely
So what the deal is, the generals what the deal is
What the deal is, the devilish thought you can't kill this
[Tony Touch: Till Capone comes home]
What n*ggas, Iraq...realize that...
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