Scorched Earth

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Vinnie Paz] Flashbang, that's a photo op My shooters take you out the fucking picture like a Photoshop Thousand knives coming at you, that's a Sakamoto shot The 93R machine pistol out of RoboCop Three round burst mode, blow your fucking fingers off Lights out, black ski mask, and the ringer off Action and reaction, akhi, I don't even think at all The cuete out of Italy, the 'caine is out of Singapore Y'all know I'm never running out of ammo The yoppa keep spitting like somebody chew tobacco Screwface, ox under the tongue, I'm a wacko Sentence you to death, blood feud, and I'm Draco That's the sound of the machete chop Beat a muhfucker 'til his eye end up like Fetty Wap I had muhfuckers going south for the birds Y'all ain't doing nothing, actions speak louder than words Toma! [Interlude: ESTEE NACK] Yeah, woah, and my word stay bond, son, you know what I'm sayin'? Bond is life and I give my life before my words, y'all feel, dig? Yo, so listen, yo [Verse 2: ESTEE NACK] I smoke flavors, the shorty listening to La India Work is Rodriguez, Tienesero Cortina Handle beamers, fully automatic Beretta Ninas Arenas (yo), my work is genius (uh-huh), I oil respect the seniors (Respect) Señore, smokin' oil, cheffin' in the Pyrex (Shit) Double the grind next, dump the Beamer, slip in the fly Lex' Strip your suplex, my nigga, you guessed it, who protest it (Nobody) True to the essence, beautiful presence (Uh-huh) Get it moving in Venice to Budapest, I'm grooving and flexing (Grooving and flexing) The music message from the prisons to the peasants (Woah) Endless (yo), infinite mental magnetics, molecular measurements (Math) True and living God in the flesh, no beginning, no ending Therefore it is a death deficit (I'm never gon' die, son) Ayo, it ain't even a question of whether I'm still in the streets Definite, hah (Woah, yo, toma, coño, Super NACKMAN, yeah, bah, yeah) [Interlude: Vinnie Paz] I never lie to any man 'cause I don't fear anyone The only time you lie is when you're afraid Don't let your tongue be your worst enemy [Verse 3: Jay Royale] Check, I got heaters to make the beef broil Your arms too weak for the recoil Throw you to the wolves or they'll feast on you I can sick the streets on you, it's only beats you can feed me with Shit get thick, approach your whip with a stick like a Squeegee When you cross paths with trigger pullers, it's rigor mortis The blick's enormous, from long range can flip a walrus Burn shit up like incinerators, pushing pen to paper Fuck around and split your chin with a razor It's critical slander, I'm sick with spitting the grammar And can regenerate a limb like, Himuro Gemma Let's switch the agenda, cold as blistering winds in the winter Release the firing pin at your brain with the Kimber It's target practice for you novice rappers Guaranteed to leave 'em slumped when I dump the automatic, uh Amityville with the mic handling skills Can chew through turnbuckles like George "Animal" Steele! For real [Outro: Vinnie Paz] Only the dead have seen the end of war, you fucking dummy It's Pack Pistol Pazienza, yeah!