Twinz (Deep Cover 98)
("I can feel it!")
Ready for war, Joe, how you wanna blow they spot?
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's ready
Meet me at Vito's with Noodles, we'll do this dude while he's slurpin' spaghetti
Everybody kiss the fuckin' floor, Joey Crack, buck 'em all
If they move, Noodles, shoot that fuckin' whore!
Dead in the middle of Little Italy
Little did we know that we riddled two middlemen who didn't do diddly
It'll be a cold day in Hell the day I take an L
Make no mistake, for real, I wouldn't hesitate to kill
I'm still the fat one that you love to hate, catch you at your mother's wake
Smack you, then I whack you with my snub tré-eight
I rub your face off the Earth and curse your family's children
Like Amityville, and drill the nerves in your cavity fillin'
Insanity's buildin' a pavilion in my civilian
The cannon be the anarchy that humanity's dealin'
A villain without remorse who's willin' to out your boss
Forever and take all the cheddar like child support
I support Pun in anything he does, anything he loves
A brother from another mother sent from the above
A thug nigga just like me, one of the best, might be
Even better, leavin' niggas kneelin' on they right knee
Spike Lee couldn't paint a better picture
You small change, I'm blowin' out your brains, gettin' richer
Hit you with the MAC! (MAC) Smack your bitch, nigga, what!?
You gettin' stuck! My trigger finger's itchy as a fuck!
Truck jewels (jewels!), cruisin' in the Land, bumpin' "Cash Rules"
Last crew to want it caught a hundred tryna pass through
That's true! So who the next to get it?
T.S., the best that did it
Get it off your chest, kid, admit it, and it's-
Yeah! And you don't stop!
20-shot Glock with the cop-killers, fill 'em to the top
Yeah! And you don't stop!
Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked
Yeah! And you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what? Bring it, I blow your whole spot
Yeah! And you don't stop!
It's still 187 on an undercover cop
Fuck the police, I squeeze first, make 'em eat dirt
Take 'em feet-first through the morgue, then lodge 'em in the deep earth
The street's cursed, the First Amendment's culturally biased
Supposed to supply us with rights, tonight, I hold my rosaries tight as I can
I'm one man against the world
Just me and my girl, Black Pearl Latina, más fina, but keeps it real
You know the deal, we steal from the rich and keep it
Peep it, it's no secret, watch me and Joe go back and forth and freak it
Creep with me, as I cruise in my Bimmer
All the kids in the ghetto call me Don Cartagena
Kickin' ass as I blast off heat
And, you never see me talk to police
So, you should know that I really don't care
Pull you by the hair, slit your throat, and I'll leave you right there
So beware, it's rare that niggas want beef
Big Pun, speak, and let these motherfuckers know how we run the streets
Fuck peace, I run the streets deep with no compassion
Puerto Ricans known for slashin', catchin' niggas while they sleepin', no relaxin'
Keep your eyes open, sharp reflexes
Three TEC's is in the Jeep Lexus just in case police test us
Street professors, Terror Squad, ghetto scholars
Full-A-Clips mob inflicts the fear of God when the metal hollers
Better acknowledge or get knocked down, until I'm locked and shot down
Heather B. couldn't make me put my Glock down
We lock towns like rounds in the chamber
Boogie Down major like Nine, I bust mine every time
Plus, I'm the crime boss of New York
Where we taught to walk the walk, all my niggas carry chalk
And stalk our prey like a predator
Whoever want it, go and get it, set it, baby, and I'ma bury ya
So remember the Squad that I'm reppin'
I fill a clip of my weapon and punish niggas 'til it's Armageddon
Yeah! And you don't stop!
20-shot Glock with the cop-killers, fill 'em to the top
Yeah! And you don't stop!
Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked
Yeah! And you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what? Bring it, I blow your whole spot
Yeah! And you don't stop!
It's still 187 on an undercover cop
Yeah! And you don't stop!
20-shot Glock with the cop-killers, fill 'em to the top
Yeah! And you don't stop!
Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked
Yeah! And you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what? Bring it, I blow your whole spot
Yeah! And you don't stop!
It's still 187 on an undercover cop
Ready for war, Joe, how you wanna blow they spot?
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's ready
Meet me at Vito's with Noodles, we'll do this dude while he's slurpin' spaghetti
Everybody kiss the fuckin' floor, Joey Crack, buck 'em all
If they move, Noodles, shoot that fuckin' whore!
Dead in the middle of Little Italy
Little did we know that we riddled two middlemen who didn't do diddly
It'll be a cold day in Hell the day I take an L
Make no mistake, for real, I wouldn't hesitate to kill
I'm still the fat one that you love to hate, catch you at your mother's wake
Smack you, then I whack you with my snub tré-eight
I rub your face off the Earth and curse your family's children
Like Amityville, and drill the nerves in your cavity fillin'
Insanity's buildin' a pavilion in my civilian
The cannon be the anarchy that humanity's dealin'
A villain without remorse who's willin' to out your boss
Forever and take all the cheddar like child support
I support Pun in anything he does, anything he loves
A brother from another mother sent from the above
A thug nigga just like me, one of the best, might be
Even better, leavin' niggas kneelin' on they right knee
Spike Lee couldn't paint a better picture
You small change, I'm blowin' out your brains, gettin' richer
Hit you with the MAC! (MAC) Smack your bitch, nigga, what!?
You gettin' stuck! My trigger finger's itchy as a fuck!
Truck jewels (jewels!), cruisin' in the Land, bumpin' "Cash Rules"
Last crew to want it caught a hundred tryna pass through
That's true! So who the next to get it?
T.S., the best that did it
Get it off your chest, kid, admit it, and it's-
Yeah! And you don't stop!
20-shot Glock with the cop-killers, fill 'em to the top
Yeah! And you don't stop!
Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked
Yeah! And you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what? Bring it, I blow your whole spot
Yeah! And you don't stop!
It's still 187 on an undercover cop
Fuck the police, I squeeze first, make 'em eat dirt
Take 'em feet-first through the morgue, then lodge 'em in the deep earth
The street's cursed, the First Amendment's culturally biased
Supposed to supply us with rights, tonight, I hold my rosaries tight as I can
I'm one man against the world
Just me and my girl, Black Pearl Latina, más fina, but keeps it real
You know the deal, we steal from the rich and keep it
Peep it, it's no secret, watch me and Joe go back and forth and freak it
Creep with me, as I cruise in my Bimmer
All the kids in the ghetto call me Don Cartagena
Kickin' ass as I blast off heat
And, you never see me talk to police
So, you should know that I really don't care
Pull you by the hair, slit your throat, and I'll leave you right there
So beware, it's rare that niggas want beef
Big Pun, speak, and let these motherfuckers know how we run the streets
Fuck peace, I run the streets deep with no compassion
Puerto Ricans known for slashin', catchin' niggas while they sleepin', no relaxin'
Keep your eyes open, sharp reflexes
Three TEC's is in the Jeep Lexus just in case police test us
Street professors, Terror Squad, ghetto scholars
Full-A-Clips mob inflicts the fear of God when the metal hollers
Better acknowledge or get knocked down, until I'm locked and shot down
Heather B. couldn't make me put my Glock down
We lock towns like rounds in the chamber
Boogie Down major like Nine, I bust mine every time
Plus, I'm the crime boss of New York
Where we taught to walk the walk, all my niggas carry chalk
And stalk our prey like a predator
Whoever want it, go and get it, set it, baby, and I'ma bury ya
So remember the Squad that I'm reppin'
I fill a clip of my weapon and punish niggas 'til it's Armageddon
Yeah! And you don't stop!
20-shot Glock with the cop-killers, fill 'em to the top
Yeah! And you don't stop!
Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked
Yeah! And you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what? Bring it, I blow your whole spot
Yeah! And you don't stop!
It's still 187 on an undercover cop
Yeah! And you don't stop!
20-shot Glock with the cop-killers, fill 'em to the top
Yeah! And you don't stop!
Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked
Yeah! And you don't stop!
We'll make it hot, nigga, what? Bring it, I blow your whole spot
Yeah! And you don't stop!
It's still 187 on an undercover cop
Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Calvin Cordazor Broadus, Christopher Rios, Andre Romell Young, Colin Fitzroy Wolfe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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