[Chorus (x2): Joe Mafia] Global thug politics, every man in his argument We form as one, who can abolish it? Projects the heart of this Catch heat, but 4 novelists The pain is deep, try and swallow this
[12 O'Clock - Brooklyn Zu] Niggaz know my steez, I jet to D.C. Chromed-down M3, nigga that play B.E.T. Joe Clair, why these faggot-ass niggaz stare? Don't they know my man carry big bear and don't care? They say he hold a nigga fruit like pear Pussy, come here, let me whisper in your ear I make your clit disappear I play the wizard, bring blizzard 4-4 heavy when I left it, Puffy shit I dis it For them locks, I bring Vietnam shots If you dare beatbox down my block Pussy-ass niggaz gotta hire cops Remember one thing, Wu niggaz don't stop
[Joe Mafia] It's like sortin out down a fresh bundle Drain my pain on your brain muscle The custle, 2 cats to die hustlin Fiend creamin men, lavish establishment Ghetto Politics, Syndicate benifit, die filithy rich Kille the benidict, chicks get the rented dick Tossin heads off, the venomous sunnin the latest My whole team roll to blow steam Put you in a smash, nickel gleam Tied to your ass, roll out the welcome mat The red carpet war onslaught, you the target I'm black market when the NARC's hiss, spittin the sharp shit Mafi-ay, V.A., Playstation, R.C.A Sippin on cabosi-ay, who could take a lose a day? Jizzed them heads, I shitted, my style shifted Them out-of-town niggaz tried to quiz it, cockin the biscuit Shattered thugs is ice mugs, the tied to nose Long-dickin in and out of hoes without the specticles
[Chorus (x2)]
[Myalansky] Cut you at the side of your face, keep my dart bent Benz wagon limo tint, play me, my flick Marlon Brando, Lucky Lou-ando gamble with large chips Project scandles I handle, still on some calm shit Darts spit, Mr. Corleone's orders for cross water Myalansky, As astatsian type, pearl torture Street cat burn your empire, your sin of course sourcer Arm-leg-head, duct tape, now torcher Vet kid responsible, word is his mouth leaked Claimin peace, cousin he lyin, hit him on south street Hit him once we dead him, forget him, losin no sleep Chain brand, bottle of perfume found in the back seat Little Mickey start from right hand, J.Jeep Teflon, King of New York, stupid you mad meef
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