Testo John Blaze - Fat Joe feat. Nas, Big Pun, Jadakiss & Raekwon
Testo della canzone John Blaze (Fat Joe feat. Nas, Big Pun, Jadakiss & Raekwon), tratta dall'album Don Cartagena
My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence
Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials
Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal
He'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil
Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers
In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer
In my own class, operation return, they tried to say
I was incompetent, not able to learn
The tables turned now, got my own label I earned
Like that nigga said in Dead Presidents, "Money to burn"
Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet
Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes
Niggas is this and that, I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest
Between Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish
So many thugs vanish, unite the system
To fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison
My crew puff lye, anyone testin' Pun must die
Just give me one try, now you know you done fucked up, right?
Ha, you ain't got no wins in mi casa
¿Qué te pasa? You ain't even in my clasa
I hate a actor that plays a rapper
I'm Terror Squad beta kappa, everybody's favorite rapper
Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal
The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral
I reign subliminal inside your visual
Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical
I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddy do, no kidding you
Even if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-shit on you
Soon as I chitter chatter, your shit'll shatter
I'm the kid out of the Bronx that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter
I'm even better than before, iller metaphors
Killers bet it all on Pun 'cause one verse dead 'em all
John Blaze
John Blaze
John Bl-Blaze
John Blaze
Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
Ayo, my attitude is subject to change
I mess around and spit 12 at the driver's side door of your Range
Six hit you, the other six up in your dame
Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains
So take heed that not only can I flow, I can aim
'Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign
Better believe that whenever I see y'all, I'ma test you
Only 'cause I know that faggots respect pressure
Hardcore, like shit you get kicked out the yard for
Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up
You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up
Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show
Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable
Y'all hot dog niggas get Nathan's
Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'
My son cool out (what), don't beef, yo, throw the tool out
Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make 'em move out
Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash
Did some dirt for some work, caught a gash
The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear
Strike me out, God, stackin' up joints, rack 'em like Footlocker
This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent here to Crenshaw
Hold my words stronger than a Benz store
Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness
Dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness
Lex imagination large, gold cards
Beat the bogus squad brains that connect, put on the Older God
Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar
Feelin' the rich, work for every dollar, don't snitch
That's why broke niggas who got heart, God, sign 'em up
Start the wind up, we John Blazin', don up in the line up
John Blaze
John Blaze
John Blaze
Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us
'Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers
Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun
Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed don
I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts
For fuckin' with my funds on the first
And go to church like a mobster
Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners
Lucas with the cartridge, 20 shot
Run up on any block, disrespect any cop
Used to run many spots, now I own shops
Gore-Tex with the lock, five sixty-four bills a pop
I'm hot, who wanna get burned?
I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn
You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day
Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed
John Blaze
John Bl-Blaze
John Blaze
Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
John Blaze
John Blaze
John Blaze
Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
Credits
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Erick S. Sermon, Reggie Noble, Corey Woods, Jason Phillips, Nasir Jones, Christopher Rios, David Anthony Willis, Joseph Anthony Cartagena
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