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Twinz (Deep Cover '99)
Big Punisher And Fat Joe
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Ready for war, Joe, how you wanna blow they spot?
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's ready
Meet me at Vito's with Noodles
We'll do this dude while he's slurpin' spaghetti
Everybody kiss the fuckin' floor
Joey Crack, buck 'em all
If they move, Noodles shoot that fuckin' whore
Dead in the middle of Little Italy, little did we know
That we riddled two middlemen who didn't do diddily
It'll be a cold day in Hell the day I take an L
Make no mistake for real, I wouldn't hesitate to kill
I'm still the fat one that you love to hate
Catch you at your mother's wake
Smack you, then I whack you with my snub tre eight
I rub your face off the Earth and curse your family children
Like Amityville, I drill the nerves in your cavity fillin'
Insanity's buildin' a pavilion in my civilian
The cannon be the anarchy that humanity's dealin'
A villain without remorse, who's willin' to out your boss
Forever, and take all the cheddar like child support
I support Pun in anything he does, anything he loves
My brother from another mother, sent from the above
A thug nigga just like me, one of the best, might be
Even better, leavin' niggas kneelin' on they right knee
Spike Lee couldn't paint a better picture
You small change, I'm blowin' out your brains, gettin' richer
Hit ya with the MAC (MAC)
Smack your bitch, nigga what?
You gettin' stuck, my trigger finger's itchy as a fuck
Truck jewels (Jewels)
Cruisin' in the Land, bumpin' Cash Rules
Last crew to want it caught a hundred tryin' to pass through
That's true! (So who the next to get it?)
TS the best that did it
(Get it off your chest, kid, admit it, and it's-)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(Twenty shot Glock with the cop killers, fill 'em to the top)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(We'll make it hot, nigga, what?
Bring it, I blow your whole spot)
Yeah, and you don't stop
It's still one-eight-seven on an undercover cop
Fuck the police, I squeeze first, make 'em eat dirt
Take 'em feet first through the morgue
Then lodge 'em in the deep earth
The street's cursed, the first amendment's culturally biased
Supposed to supply us with rights
Tonight I hold my rosary tight as I can
I'm one man against the world, just me and my girl
Black Pearl Latina mas fina but keeps it real
You know the deal, we steal from the rich and keep it
Peep it, it's no secret
Watch me and Joe go back and forth and freak it
Creep with me, as I cruise in my Bimmer
All the kids in the ghetto call me Don Cartagena
Kickin' ass as I blast off heat
And you never see me talk to police
Though you should know that I really don't care
Pull you by the hair, slit your throat
And I'll leave you right there, so beware
It's rare that niggas want beef, Big Pun speak
And let these motherfuckers know how we run the streets
Fuck peace, I run the streets deep with no compassion
Puerto Ricans known for slashin'
Catchin' niggas while they sleepin', no relaxin'
Keep your eyes open, sharp reflexes
Three TECs in the Jeep Lexus, just in case police test us
Street professors, Terror Squad, ghetto scholars
Full-a-clips mob, inflicts the fear of God
When the metal hollers
Better acknowledge or get knocked down
Until I'm locked and shot down
Heather B. couldn't make me put my Glock down
We lock towns like rounds in the chamber
Boogie Down major like Nine, I bust mine
Every time, plus I'm the crime boss of New York
Where we taught to walk the walk, all my niggas carry chalk
And stalk our prey like a predator
Whoever want it, go and get it
Set it, baby, and I'ma bury ya
So remember the Squad that I'm reppin'
I fill a clip of my weapon
And punish niggas 'til it's Armageddon
Yeah, and you don't stop
(Twenty shot Glock with the cop killers, fill 'em to the top)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(We'll make it hot, nigga, what?
Bring it, I blow your whole spot)
Yeah, and you don't stop
It's still one-eight-seven on an undercover cop
Yeah, and you don't stop
(Twenty shot Glock with the cop killers, fill 'em to the top)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(Joey cracks the rock, and Big Pun keeps the guns cocked)
Yeah, and you don't stop
(We'll make it hot, nigga, what?
Bring it, I blow your whole spot)
Yeah, and you don't stop
It's still one-eight-seven on an undercover cop
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