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Fantastic 4 (Explicit Version)
DJ Clue?
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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(Cam'ron, Pun, Nore, Canibus) yo, come on mehn, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo-yo, yo, yo-yo, yo
You never hear that we buckle, beef?
We chuckle, scuffle over a game of pinochle
Anything I put my money in, got to see double
Unless y'all wanna see trouble
You ran a mile
I'm the type to cut a piece of soap, put it on the imbecile
Tell you it's crack, then hand a vial
Came with a pal, girls grope then I smile
That's when they fall, 'cause they lick my balls
Right after I play ball
No wash up, no nothin', hear what I say, y'all?
Okay, y'all, ask AJ, y'all
I'm the baddest bitch to scare y'all
Like Stacey Dash, he was eatin' Tracy ass
At this other lady pad
To get it on, I had to call up Desert Storm
But cutthroats call y'all, while y'all hope the dawn fall
But I come inside the tunnel, nigga, with Pope John Paul
Yo, them niggas on the wrong front
They ain't no harm, y'all
'Cause my crew'll break each shoulder
I'm that nigga that talk about no street soldiers
'Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers
Keep two bones and two phones in each Rover
We all relax, and any beef, it's all reactin'
Peace is all reaction, but I get buckwild like Corey Jackson
Playas called off, 'cause y'all niggas got to get hauled off
Y'all all soft, smokin' Nicholai, nigga like Volkoff
Know what I mean, yo?
Long as the C.R.E.A.M. grow, I fiend though
I come fuck up your whole town like El Niรฑo
I'm the hottest nigga you seen, yo
Jumpin' outta Lex too
With Jimmy Jones right next to me in a Benz sweatsuit
Fuck all y'all non-believers
I roll with God, the Squad and TS
Out with the BS
We platinum, they even doubted Jesus
Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid
Brain brolic with knowledge, cock-diesel scholars
Holdin' it down
Walkin' around with gold by the pound
Frozen and drowned with diamond boulders all in the crown
Talk of the town, soakin' you down with toast 'til you drown
Ghost you and burn your corpse with the force that'll open the ground
Save the jokes for the clowns, I'm on a serious tip
You keep playin', and I get furious quick
And I'll take you for a walk through the ghetto
Either spark your metal
Or get outlined in chalk by the devil
I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit
I used to clap shit
Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit
I used to have to pack a MAC in back of the Ac'
Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack
It's like that
But don't think I won't counteract
My niggas is strapped
And quick to lay a bitch on his back
I'm swift with the MAC, quicker than kung fu
With the reflexes of a cat and the speed of a mongoose
Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit
Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit
Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit
Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit
Now, what's a symphony without me on it? It ain't a symphony
My jewels shit on cats without Tiffany
N.O.R.E., I just lace the heat
I don't complain about the track, give me any beat
I get head in the whip on any street
I fuck with Clue, other cats is snakes
I been fuckin' with Clue since he made 60 Minute tapes
We copped mad bottles and crushed many grapes
We from the hood, and they from the hood
The difference is we get plaques that go double wood
We took the game right over at the time they could
Them niggas silly though
Knowin' Nore lay pretty low
But them niggas is moles
Just like the Maxwell video
I got two albums and two cars
And now bitches on my dick 'cause of Chico DeBarge
Thugged Out's first lady (Let's go have fun, baby)
Them motherfuckers ain't live, though they told the streets
I sold a hundred sixty-three thou' on my first week
That mean I got more fans than you, bigger plans than you
We buy real coke, hit grams of blue
Ayo, the president is like me, he smoke weed too
Don't really like to fuck, he just get head too
Stick a broom in your butt, tell you, "Go 'head, boo"
Thugged Out motherfuckers like the rest of the crew
Cannabis, Cam'Ron and Punisher too
And the beats usually done by Duro and Clue
Who the hell wanna battle the ill mathematical?
My motherfuckin' brain is IBM compatible
Techniques are foreign, far from bein' borin'
My style is hard like Castle without McCormick
I run through your crew like the flu when I vomit
My style's like AIDS, 'cause don't nobody want it
Niggas frontin' like they hard
But I'm a street fighter like Jean-Claude
And I'll split your shit, pa
Right down the middle, play you like a fiddle
I got a fetish for titties, I nibble on the nipple
Then trespass on your property like Monopoly
Subdue your crew and beat that ass properly
Welcome to the Desert Storm annual extravaganza
Crew rolls deeper than the Cartwrights on Bonanza
I feed off weed, natural energy sources
Lyrics are more power than the horses they put in Porsches
Can't be tested or effed with, I'm too reckless
I chop off heads just to take the necklace
The type of Cannabis that's side effect-less
The type of shit to get the Question Mark Man arrested
Take evasive action, flip like reciprocal fractions
Turn the heat up on MC's to watch they meat blacken
You try to get fly, you get electrified
And fried, and fuck around and get your mouth slapped dry
You could battle me and possibly survive
But you could never see me and walk away without a black eye
Word up, hops, Clueminati call the cops
And if the cops ain't tryin' to see me, the cops call SWAT
Scar your whole squad with bullet scars, no holds barred
I'll even hassle the National Guard
Ready or not like the Fugees, crews be steppin' to me
But I wipe 'em all out like booty
I'm so unruly, the police don't say nothin' to me
It don't matter whether they on or off duty
I murder you brutally when I spit at you
My actions are unforgivable, look at what Clueminati did to you
The maximum lyrical, nigga, you minimal
There's a big hole in the desert
I told the men in blue to dig for you
Motherfucker, Clueminati '98
DJ Clue
The Professional
What's what?
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