Warning - Knife in Face

7L and Esoteric

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    [Esoteric talking]
    You motherfuckers
    This is some murderous shit right here
    It's the E-S, 7L on the track
    Potent somethin' through ya bean hat
    Don't try to pigeon hold me baby
    You know the deal
    About to black out on these motherfuckers
    It's like this, hey yo

    [Verse 1]
    We don't pussy foot around shit, we beat down shit
    We ain't the cats that you wanna fuck around with
    Straight up, like a jump off
    you make my skin crawl like a snake
    I hold my weight like Triple H, the cerebral assassin
    I beat you, defeat you wid the passion
    Cash and girls are what motivates me
    A small rapper like yaself is needin' safety
    I don't claim to be a thug
    But that would mean a slug
    For any faggo that's givin' or receivin' love
    I keep a glove in my right hand
    So when I murder wid the mic
    they won't trace it when they pull it out ya diaphram
    You're in the fryin' pan
    I'm a violent man watchin' silence of the lambs
    Ready to go out, and stab the jaws off ya mouth
    I'm not the one to dis
    I'm fearless like Parker than the deer hunter is
    No doubt

    [Hook]
    You thug it out, cut it out
    You fuck around we gon' slug it out, club it out
    You playin' games we gon' shut you out

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    So now you know what we about
    Pimp slap a thug beyond the shadow of a doubt

    [Talking]
    Y'all motherfuckers is actin' real fake right
    Ya man's land ain't even that man
    You ain't livin' that life
    You ain't ready for that man, fall back

    [Verse 2]
    Bitch ass rapper, fake act clapper
    Can't fuck around with the underground jaw tapper
    Raw rapper, rugged like a Landrover
    Handover the mic ya plan's over tonight
    Ain't nobody flowin' as tight in y'all click
    I'm to sick, to eat a dick
    Ya can't get wid the words that I spit
    I rip, can't stand none of this fake shit
    This side of stupid weak shit, you a baby, go back to Old Navy
    Yo I shop Newbury, now you walk new bury
    While I'm spendin' cash on Fifth Ave you get tabbed, not a clue
    Or the slightest inklin' of who you talkin' to
    I slaughter you, my crew hit's you on the face off
    First of all shake the hate off
    Claimin' that you paid when it's my plates you ate off
    The truth is you can't afford to take a day off
    You stay soft like my purple label face cloth
    My dick you need to stay off
    If punch lines were punch clocks you'd be laid off

    Hook x2

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