(feat. Inspectah Deck, King Just)



[Intro: Inspectah Deck]

U.D.'s, yeah, yeah



[Inspectah Deck:]

We grindin', down to the bone, my name grounded in stone

Admist the founders, we loungin' with chrome

And mix the finest, we down to this home

Hit the housin' or roam

Shinin' like a hundred thousand in stones

Move mountains with poems, got a jones for Deniro

1-6-0, my zone, we throwin' elbows

The hoes bling, sure thing, we known kings

Only dime types, with minds right, we chose queens

5-0 sting, they want me thrown in the bing

Cuff me up, fuck me up, still your boy won't sing

Authentic like the U.S. mint

The hood hear me like when two techs spit

Seen me movin' in the blue S6

With some new red kicks, and a few ecst' hits

A ounce of purple and some Wu head chicks

Make the Planet Rock like Baambaata, the mad doctor

Bad momma slit that ass out the Prada

Hit the jackpot, slots for grands in Nevada

Pop a brawl like Muhammed and George, and Kid Sha-Sha



[Donnie Cash:]

Since 12, I've been damn near grown, so I'm scared?

I'm gon' fuck niggas, Cashmere knowin'

Past year, showin' gray hair, beards

I bares arm, lost fears in the modern day 'Nam, my tears gone

Prepare, it's on, now that hibernation, street violation

Creep while you faking, study your card, niggas is fraud

Fuck that shakin out the don, I spit for a nation and spit it hard

These shots from abroad, they hit your car

It's war when the jails from the four, blow through the door

And hit your broad, I draw like an artists, hard target

Get the job, start to the finish, if I gotta die

Let it be, gettin' high off the spinach

Chase it down, H E Double N Y, with Guinness

Dedicated street chemist, street image

Stick to heavy metals like a magnet

Rip automatics, spit rapid at your cabbage

Flip faggots backwards like a mattress

Drop bodies like a bad habit, it's Cash, ya'll niggas

Will slug ya'll niggas, yeah



[La Banga:]

Yeah, yo, we can stay, back to back, while we handle these tracks

Or like when your raw, back to back, handlin' gats

The finest in guns, a submachine repeatin' it's claps

Prettiest sound, deliverin' rounds, destination

Layin' anyone down, coroners essemble your scraps

Burnin' them down, whose turn is it now, yours perhaps

This shit is a rap of riddles or mummy, like rubberbands on money

As the belt embrace the gun on my dungeries

I worry not, and look for a dealer to hit the block

If the rap game fail, the streets always got

Perserve you a spot, like what goes up, it must come down

Fuck if you accepted or not, knahImeman?

These raps stretch out like Yao Ming

Took block shots, whose blockin' your goal? It's La, me

It's hot, always rollin' that la-la-la-la green

That la-la-la-la green, that la-la-la-la green



[King Just:]

It'll only take ten to destroy you and your men

Mr. Tokeback, strokes, ain't a joke to the end

Who can swim low and sky dive high, against mine

In my prime, Optimus shine, the booth be the bottom line

Fine as wine, get to the point like a porcupine

Throwin' gang signs, slittin' dimes in my spare time

Crime doesn't pay, as far as they say

Shit, let me tell it, I got pain every day

Which way the mix D.J., he play what I play

Most rappers can't rap, so they say what I say

How you gonna lie and try to deny

It's the Art of Dart Throwing...