Fuck Tony Montana

La Coka Nostra

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    (Ill Bill)
    Fuck Tony Montana, we kill kids, if he did he?d still be alive
    Al Pacino fucked up twice
    I?m a vet but Benny Blonco ain?t taking my life
    I might end up on the beach with my seed in my wife
    One last hustle, last hoorah, move this last bundle
    I caught bodies out here, homie, y?all can?t fumble
    Most of my felonies are legendary
    That?s why I put most of my enemies in cemeteries
    I seen visions from beyond the grave burning in Hell
    Screaming in pain to God begging to be saved
    This is purgatory, another first degree murder story
    They took my kindness for a weakness and turned it on me
    That?s when I blacked out, pulling triggers like I was cracked out
    Eyes bugging out my head tapped out
    Schized the fuck out, loced out, coked out
    Shinied up, left you soaked the fuck up and smoked out

    (Everlast)
    Fuck a motherless child from a penniless home
    I?m an heartless lion with an iron-jaw bone
    I?m no Al Capone or Corelone
    But I?ve been known to put a hit out on the microphone
    Fuck your time zone, fuck your area code
    I?ll detonate my payload and watch it explode
    It?s a gangster boogie, it?s a soldier?s hustle
    Little bang take big bank if it got muscle
    Drugs, money, sex, revolution is next
    This ain?t strong-armed robbery, we got a small armory
    Fuck cracks and Glocks, we shooting back at the cops
    Deep undercover like we running black ops
    Battle cry singing, you?re on my dick swinging
    Ain?t nobody fucking with this drama I?m bringing
    Some men are king and some men are peasants
    So come kiss the ring, bow down to the king

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    (Sick Jacken)
    I?m from the double S till I drop
    I rep the bubble vest with a Glock
    My trouble stem from all the death on my block
    The meth and the rock got zombie armies set to pop
    Jail cells are funeral plots, they?re stressed in a box
    Sick Side harmony is like Jews and Arabs in bombing sprees
    My hood?s the Gaza Strip, this raw shit?s a part of me
    A cult following martyrs me, street life is haunting me constantly
    Thinking cops with the friction are trying to slaughter me
    A killer?s lottery is roulette, not on himself
    That?s when Russians test the Mexicans and see who?s next
    Hit the block and you?ll catch two Techs
    Nevermind where you?re from, we?re reacting cause we preview death
    Drive-by murder hit with a live burner
    You try to shake a barrel to buck, it?s not heard of
    You are not everlasting, get slain by Ill Bill
    One lethal dose of pain and get left on the hill

    (B-Real)
    There?s so many ways to hustle man, I got em all locked
    If you think about touching mine, the hammer?s on cocked
    Got my mind on my money and my money on my mind
    We never stop the hustle, get the paper and fly
    That?s life in the city, shit is gritty, no it ain?t pretty
    But we on the grind, homie if you ain?t rolling with me
    When you against you just an enemy that might be a cancer
    So then we?re searching to remove your ass, ain?t taking no chances
    In the darkest places ones with the unknown faces
    Cause fire places in hearts of the rebels you hating
    You better take a look and recognise the monster created
    I think we gotta choke em, we just elevated to hatred
    What you know about survival? Ever struggle to eat?
    What you know about the poverty? Ever live on the street?
    When there ain?t no opportunity trying to make ends meet
    Then you become what they fear but they fear the elite

    (Slaine)
    Yeah, I?m a DMS soldier, EMS hold you
    Now you?re knocked the fuck out, you need a rest I told you
    Homie you don?t walk with a lean on my shoulder
    Scheming on your dollar, fiending for a boulder
    Blue-eyed devil spilling semen on your culture
    Who am I to revel? What I?m being is a vulture
    On both coasts with the toast to roast you
    My soul?s so close to approaching hopeless
    Flows so dope I do coke to focus
    The angel with the dust so the smoke is smoking
    You loathe how I roll, it was so ferocious
    I know this, I always had a prose composure
    Let the curtains close cause your shows is over
    They?ll be no more of you posers posing
    It?s raw uncut with a weapon to shoot
    I?m the truth for the youth when I step in the booth, what!

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Erik Schrody, L. Dimant, L. Freese, J. Gonzalez, G. Carroll y W. Braunstein

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