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junior m a f i a - lyrical wizardry lyrics
lyrical wizardry dances on mc’s like murray on sc’s
never flaunt, now motherf-ckers come test me
burnin’ everybody hotter than torches at jamaican parties
far from angels, n-gg-s can’t see me like charlie
style weak? hardly!
don’t let the whacked pursue you like marley
jm clique moves in packs like whities on harleys
n-gg-s get injured, f-cked do’ in 40 fingers
got b-tches by bike bar bussin’ glocks off a’ n-gg-s
klep don’t give three sh-ts to flip scripts
miss bullets from clips, leave n-gg-s rollin’ up skateboards
wit nuttin’ under they hips, b-tch, so if you test me
sh-t gets messy, bustin’ .38 speci outta paper bags like joe pesci
yo, you know the tune make sure b-tches don’t eat
when it’s time to sh-t out them c-ke balloons
balked up the ninja when it got shady, now i got grown ladies
bustin’ .380’s outta e cl-ss mercedes
hurry the f-ck up b-tch, get on
f-ck you motherf-cker let me out this l
there they go right there, dot them n-gg-s
motherf-ckers
mc’s get cut like gl-ss, cut like gl-ss
rag tagged and crash, hemp bags, come save dat -ss
who wanna get broke the f-ck up? tell me
freakin’ vocabulary like chinese and spelling bees
t-p-e-l-k held to reflect a device-es
the nicest, jesus christ-es
junior mafioso, n-gg-s get torn off head to torso
bullets evacuated out windows
from hekkyl and coch, p7 inmates
extra .380 on a string ’round my neck cos feds check the waist
no time to waste, grab the loot and escape before next break
heads are clockin’, private eyes are watchin’
n-gg- caught up in the hustle
f-ck flippin’ packages and tyin’ up, minx and rings i bubble
trouble’s what i look for in stores on expensive floors
beeling boots is essence, bookin’ pelle’s in my drawers
armani, gianni versace, v2
lost count o’ all the little sections me and mans ran through
it ain’t hard to discard cans of mace on guards
leave them b-tch -ss n-gg-s screamin’ like a f-ckin’ r-t-rd
lyrically i come off like ink alarms
got styles under the wing like spread is booked under my arms
n-gg-s couldn’t see me with closed circuit tv
tryin’ to peep my st–z, like dt’s i get over like i’m fifteen
hey, you’re not fifteen
i’m fifteen, what?
what do you think we are, -ssholes or somethin’
f-ck you, soundin’ like that n-gg- from night court
loose my cuffs i’m outta here
mc’s be fake like toupes so i transplant
implant my fist to their face makin’ their skin red
sound waves disrupted, they f-cked, kid
air holes bl–dy rupted but that ain’t nuttin’
the best is yet to come
mc’s get strung like heads on drums
they don’t be knowin’ what i’m knowin’, flowin’ like i’m flowin’
makin’ motherf-ckers take nose dives like 747 boeings
obnoxious beef’s squashes face-to-face
n-gg-s get wet up like alasha’s on klep’s place
through the hard time sayin’ prayers committin’ crimes
sick minds don’t care, rockin’ parties from front to rear
brains engulfed by ferocious [incomprehensible]
runnin’ up on big wit lex wit nappies doused with chloroforms
livin’ in a world where you do what you must
if preachers be robbin’ n-gg-s who the f-ck can you trust?
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