Lyric Parental Discretion
[Featuring Busta Rhymes]
[Big Punisher]
Aiyyo I m hard to talk to, if you live I probably thought you stalked
you
where you walked to at night, caught you then tried to extort you
New York niggaz is trigger happy, got Pataki scared
This town ain t big enough for both of us AND I AIN T GOIN NOWHERE
There it is, plain and simple like Jigga my game is mental
While slow niggaz better know I blow their brains out they temples
I m into black magical torture romantic dramatical author
Compatible with the average New Yorker
A fast talker, like Tony when gas whores I m the masked enforcer
out for the cash and the cho-cha
Smash the coca, bottle it up watch the fiends gobble it up
If I roll up, you do what? Swallow the stuff
I don t give a fuck anymore, I m only twenty-four years old
and I ve already broken every law
I m horrorcore, this is for the heads
Runnin up in your crib, knot if you still hot in under the bed
Chorus: Busta Rhymes
Yo, parental discretion advised, please cover your eyes
Little kids -- GET OUT OF HERE!!! This shits is homicide!
Drugs and money, this ain t no Bugs Bunny!
Little girls too; this ain t for you it s for the thugs honey!
[Big Punisher]
Hey yo my shit s the truth, 150 proof no question
Parental discretion advised, keep out the eyes of the youth
It s too explicit, bullshit! I challenge the statistics
Violence existed before our music was even suggested
Arrested on sight, it s like there s no rights
That s why I rhyme so aggressive and bring every message to life
I fight the power, spite the power the 90 percent
Keep 10 and feed Twin half for personal reasons
The seasons change.. things re-arrange, but I stay the same
Play the game, for the wealth, until I ve made myself a name
So blame it all on the gangster rapper, thanks to Joey Crack
for the chance to do it my way like Frank Sinatra
I ain t a actor so it s all facts, strictly raw rap
Totally intended for yours dressed in all black
with the ski mask, or the pantyhose makin cameos
in liquor store cameras with the twin Calico s
Chorus 2X
[Big Punisher]
So forget the boom, one look, you shook -- you know I m stickin you
Liftin you off the ground, look down -- that s where I m puttin you
Look in my eyes and remember me, how does it feel mentally
havin the enemy be the last thing you ever see?
The recipe is death and I m the chef, fricaseein your flesh
Be my guest, but I ain t cleanin the mess
Me and TS we testin niggaz faith, just to see they face
expression when destined to states, that death be in the case
I m in the state of grace, in the hated race, by the pagan face
Couldn t fight us, made a virus, gave us AIDS
I paint the wake cause they ain t get me yet, wet me
or reflect me yet, I know they comin they just tryin to let me sweat
I wreck it like when I was just a boy, eatin Chips Ahoy!
Wasn t allowed to raise my voice, now I m makin noise
No more toys, strictly Mac s and missiles, shorties with forties
packin pistols catchin bodies make sure we ll get you
So they say, I pray there s a better way
My kids don t do as I do, they do as I say, cause daddy don t play
Chorus 2X
[Busta Rhymes]
Word is bond
One thing about MC s is that we don t conceal the truth
We present real pictures about the positive and the negative
So don t blame the hip-hop when your seed is learnin the real life
from us
Do your duty at home and raise your child in the house
Parents...
You don t do your job we gonna put your children to bed at nine
o clock
Past your bedtime
You get your ass in bed you ain t posed to be hearin this shit
Word up
Punishment motherfuckers!
By the Punisher, and Busta Rhymes, hah
Terror Squad! Flipmode Squad niggaz!
[Big Punisher]
Aiyyo I m hard to talk to, if you live I probably thought you stalked
you
where you walked to at night, caught you then tried to extort you
New York niggaz is trigger happy, got Pataki scared
This town ain t big enough for both of us AND I AIN T GOIN NOWHERE
There it is, plain and simple like Jigga my game is mental
While slow niggaz better know I blow their brains out they temples
I m into black magical torture romantic dramatical author
Compatible with the average New Yorker
A fast talker, like Tony when gas whores I m the masked enforcer
out for the cash and the cho-cha
Smash the coca, bottle it up watch the fiends gobble it up
If I roll up, you do what? Swallow the stuff
I don t give a fuck anymore, I m only twenty-four years old
and I ve already broken every law
I m horrorcore, this is for the heads
Runnin up in your crib, knot if you still hot in under the bed
Chorus: Busta Rhymes
Yo, parental discretion advised, please cover your eyes
Little kids -- GET OUT OF HERE!!! This shits is homicide!
Drugs and money, this ain t no Bugs Bunny!
Little girls too; this ain t for you it s for the thugs honey!
[Big Punisher]
Hey yo my shit s the truth, 150 proof no question
Parental discretion advised, keep out the eyes of the youth
It s too explicit, bullshit! I challenge the statistics
Violence existed before our music was even suggested
Arrested on sight, it s like there s no rights
That s why I rhyme so aggressive and bring every message to life
I fight the power, spite the power the 90 percent
Keep 10 and feed Twin half for personal reasons
The seasons change.. things re-arrange, but I stay the same
Play the game, for the wealth, until I ve made myself a name
So blame it all on the gangster rapper, thanks to Joey Crack
for the chance to do it my way like Frank Sinatra
I ain t a actor so it s all facts, strictly raw rap
Totally intended for yours dressed in all black
with the ski mask, or the pantyhose makin cameos
in liquor store cameras with the twin Calico s
Chorus 2X
[Big Punisher]
So forget the boom, one look, you shook -- you know I m stickin you
Liftin you off the ground, look down -- that s where I m puttin you
Look in my eyes and remember me, how does it feel mentally
havin the enemy be the last thing you ever see?
The recipe is death and I m the chef, fricaseein your flesh
Be my guest, but I ain t cleanin the mess
Me and TS we testin niggaz faith, just to see they face
expression when destined to states, that death be in the case
I m in the state of grace, in the hated race, by the pagan face
Couldn t fight us, made a virus, gave us AIDS
I paint the wake cause they ain t get me yet, wet me
or reflect me yet, I know they comin they just tryin to let me sweat
I wreck it like when I was just a boy, eatin Chips Ahoy!
Wasn t allowed to raise my voice, now I m makin noise
No more toys, strictly Mac s and missiles, shorties with forties
packin pistols catchin bodies make sure we ll get you
So they say, I pray there s a better way
My kids don t do as I do, they do as I say, cause daddy don t play
Chorus 2X
[Busta Rhymes]
Word is bond
One thing about MC s is that we don t conceal the truth
We present real pictures about the positive and the negative
So don t blame the hip-hop when your seed is learnin the real life
from us
Do your duty at home and raise your child in the house
Parents...
You don t do your job we gonna put your children to bed at nine
o clock
Past your bedtime
You get your ass in bed you ain t posed to be hearin this shit
Word up
Punishment motherfuckers!
By the Punisher, and Busta Rhymes, hah
Terror Squad! Flipmode Squad niggaz!
