Capone-N-Noreaga

Chorus:
New York get the Bloody Money, dirty cash
Live niggas who smoke weed, car seat stash
You monkey walk, I'm hunchback, sneak quiet
Talk about me gossip, scared to death when I pop up
I'm fouler than gats that don't bust when they supposed to
Been around you, play close, but wasn't close to you
The setup was weak, you coming
I saw you cuttin' corners, snake-type shit
Tie you up, seal your lip, wrist bleeding
Cowboy rope, choke your throat
Put the bogey out in your face
Now your face laced like ash tray face
Stay with gat on my waist
Give the god some space, shoot you up above waist
If I ain't got beef right here or right there
Ice-grill stare, shoulda set it off right it off right there
CNN war report, spread across New York
Guard him Indian style - knees bent, militant
Yo the world know Noreaga from Iraq
Beef with me serious, keep it real, that's that
Get stabbed in your back, my man Alley Cat
Little cousin from Jamaica, brown-skin thug
Thug blood, yo we stuck in the game like it's a drug
My pops was a thug nigga, was on the streets too
Uncle Wise been banned since '82
Back on the streets, A hundred seven got brew
I see you, come see you, writing scrolls(writing scrolls)
To the rest of the fam, locked in holes
At age eight, money come first, snatch purse
Go to church, yo that's not me, mami I'm cursed
Iblis glamorous, diabolic, devilish, this game real, realer than you think
Just think, spots get rushed, knots get touched, police busts
Yo what happened? Police kicked door, yo he was rappin'
Your wife - what what! What what! Dressed indecent
A hundred crackers, son it's the one-ten precinct
Chorus