No Tolerance

(Statik Selektah)
Paul Wall
Say, man, call the funeral home, man
Have 'em on standby, man
'Bout to kill this shit
Ay, ay
Paul Wall, Statik

Wordplay superlative
Statik on the track, you murdered it
I'm all thorough, that's affirmative
Being fake, no, I ain't for that shit

I'm going flawless, all permanent
I'm known to turn heads like a tourniquet
I turn your bitch, now she's turning tricks, I turn rich
I told my son, "Watch out, the game could get merciless"

I'm on the South Lee five-nine, we be merciless
Not having my bread ready, that can be pernicious
I'm all over the paper, yeah, I'm quite like a journalist
And first, before you disunderstand this
I'm too busy worried 'bout me

Granted, I took the love for granted
But I managed to vanish before commitment landed
You taste the standard when damage came in the picture
Pucker up, kiss-ass nigga

No bad liver, my lungs leaking this gas though
Tadpoles caught in a maze, beeline to black hole
Three dollars and six ten strips was on my dresser, hoe

Let me know, serving revenge cold
Warm it up for no souls that want to know
I used to play Sudoku's, ay

And copped the miles for me
If you ain't got it, I got you, but you gotta get busy
My nigga Bently covers puddles for me as I fall through
We split the cizy in fourths
That's how we stay together, learn from the ball

She sent a course when I asked for Ty, damn, you matured
Let's talk about it, get descriptive like you talk to the Lord
I couldn't vouch if I ain't seen you do it, cut down the noise
I hate to see it but these niggas fuck boys, they null and void (yeah, yeah, yeah)

(Fuck your life, agh) where your mask at?
You know the fuckin' vibes, you ain't even gotta ask that
Feeding fiends percocets like they had a bad back
Laughing at the game 'cause all of these rappers ass crack (fuck outta here)

Corona left some of y'all exposed
Can't survive three months without doing shows
Rappers that's lesser known
You hit 'em up for a spot on your mixtape
That's how we know you broke, you dick face

Pay homage when you see me, it's the fuckin' God
You never been up north, how you rappin' 'bout the yard? (stop lying)
Talkin' like you hard but I know that you but (but)
I'll smack the reme off your hat, then ask you, "What's up?" (This reme is garbage)

Fuck your life, the only brand that I rock (facts)
Live from Coney Island, we be blaming at cops (brr, aah)
I only fucked shorty 'cause her man was a opp
Knocked him out his shoes like he has cancerous socks (agh, agh)

I'ma keep it two virgils with you
Every word official, don't let this burner lift you
Set you up, go and send a lil' bird to kiss you
With a German pistol, full of murder missiles

These rappers washed up, who I gotta clean next?
Momma in the church weeping in the Kleenex
You insane if you thinkin' that it's me next
PTSD stretch you off a reflex

Before they ever shazam me, it was jammies
Ran up in them panties, had 'em poppin' them plan B's
Foul gentlemen burner under the letterman
With ketamine peddlin' for presidents, we devilish

War ready, leave 'em all buried, extraordinary
Pennin' heavy, get 'em all ready for the cemetery
Them rappers that you love, they love me like Bun B
And fuck the police, they can't defund me

(Fuck the, fuck the police, fuck the police)