Testo Stick You - Capone-N-Noreaga
Testo della canzone Stick You (Capone-N-Noreaga), tratta dall'album The War Report
Yo, yo, you got that shit? Let me see that (it's right here, yo)
Look, look, son! That's the second time that nigga did that, yo!
Second time! Taste that, yo! (What the fuck is this shit, yo?)
Is this your shit, no? Is it? (No, this shit is weak)
Yo, that's the second time son did that shit, yo
(Word, I don't wanna talk...)
Yo, fuck that, yo (word up)
We're gonna go get him right now, yo, us, us, right here, yo
Us, yo, nobody else, we gonna get him, yo
(Listen, listen, listen, son)
Listen, listen, yo, we gotta map this shit out, son
We can't just be runnin' them things
Meet us on 160 the nigga be on 1-5-2
And we just gonna do it on 160, we gonna get
(Look, I'm sayin' dun, we gonna keep it real, man)
(He ain't gonna do it to us again, son! We gonna do it, son!)
Look, I'm sayin', you know I'm with you, you know how we get down
We gonna get the nigga but we gotta map this shit out right
'Cause people, I... That nigga got mad, fuckin'-
You know what I'm sayin' Boricua niggas runnin' with him (word)
You know what I'm saying
They ain't gonna expect it
We gonna move, it's raining, son
They ain't gonna expect it right now
They ain't gonna expect it, son
I ain't trying to have no two-five casualties, man
That's what I'm sayin', I want us to get in
And get the fuck out
From 41-12, to the U.S.A. building in Iraq
My crew bust back, we're cap peelin'
You're through dealin', in a box with no feelin'
Informer type, that's what you get for squealin'
It's the money or the morgue, son, ready to die
Black Infiniti, yo, Papi, call Ki
The coke connect don't trust us, he wanna touch us
So call Russ, tell him to scoop me in the Lexus
It's all good, in the 'hood, nobody know shh
Infrared off the roof, some ol' scope shh
CNN, desert men, holdin' the chrome with gorilla grip
Sing Sing, straight convict
Strap the door, C-4, detonatin' shh
Blow the spot, don't give a fuck who you go and get
We want the yayo, and the cash that's in the stash
Strip his Tommy drawers, yo, check the crack of his ass
(Yo, on some homo shh?) Nah, kid, we on some real shit
Since we here, we might as well get all of it
Inshallah Allahu Akbar supporter
CNN, desert men supreme order (word)
Akasi, three and a quarter, Arab Nazi
Me and shorty from the Mecca, havin' a session
Play the Shark Bar, sippin' on French Connection
On the rocks, son, hit me on the box
Time to hit the spot, regulate the whole fuckin' block
Grab the gray tape, gag his mouth, leave him for the rats
Stuck him for the yayo, couldn't get the money back
So where you at?
Meet me Uptown, by the Polo Grounds
Strapped with the vest, plus I got the four-pound
Tell Caduece bring the A.K. so y'all can hold me down
A'ight, kiko, I'ma meet you in a hour, keep the Free-Power close
Gotta get dunn, and we ghost
Met Papi in Iraq (Huh?), then winged by the back
Opened up the trunk, and threw in the big gat
Took off, threw the skully mask over the dome
We war prone, desert men tactics all shown
Met on 1-5-2, now we figure
Lookin' for that rich Dominican with that gold Ac' vigor
Chico, he got perico, little do he know
We stickin' him for all of his dough, nigga
This ain't your ordinary shh thug shh that you used to
Q.U. (we stick you, we supposed to)
Not your ordinary shhh thug shhh that you used to
Q.U. (we stick you)
Yo, yo! For years, I been buyin' my coke from the same cat
Jheri Curl nigga, Dominican nigga who look Black
As I think back, transform coke to crack
Yo, amigo, him and Rico, they got Perico
Son, I know the spot like the back of my hand
Networked the plan, we stickin' him and his man
Workin' zip-lock, pop the lock, flee the spot, grab the knot
National (Hurry up! Hurry up!)
Tell Willy come and get me on 160
I got three people with me, with trenches
We Uptown, waitin' on the benches
The cab takin' long, Dominicans comin' strong
Claimin' that it's on from dusk 'til dawn
We right across the street, they don't see us
A-yo, our Cuban disguise, it got us lookin' like we Jesus
Inshallah, we flee the spot mega far
Jump up in Willy car, and scream "Alhamdu Allah!"
25 people lost sleep
The other 25 lost heat snitchin' and gave up Luis
Said it wasn't worth it, the CNN drug circuit
Yo, blind fold, pass the gray tape, regulate
Cowboy rope strapped to the chair, stay there
He just a power ranger that snitched on me while in danger
Noreaga, treat that ass like a stranger
Yo, yo-yo
This ain't your ordinary shh thug shh that you used to
Q.U. (we stick you, we supposed to)
Not your ordinary shh thug shh that you used to
Q.U. (we stick you)
Stick you, and him too, yeah, you and you
(Bitch-ass nigga)
Got you back, got you back
We got you back, from sellin' that fake yak
Credits
Writer(s): Kiam Holley, Victor Santiago, Percy Lee Chapman, Joe Davis
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