S.i.n.y. Flow Lyrics

[Lon Dini:]
What you thought I messed with cub scout thugs?
You pay niggaz to ride, mines do it for love
Before you niggaz could look up and think, I'm bombing you again
Thought you was the only hot shit to come out of Shaolin?
Spill truth like the scripture, paint I'll pictures
To them dudes that violated, believe I'm a get you
Never forget, won't stop 'til Lon dropping stiff
A gifted lyrical wizard, flow is explicit
Who is it? Dini in here, don't ever compare
Like an unstoppable force you can't get near
f**ked up, shitted on the borough that made you
You sold millions, now the radio don't even play you

[Hue Hefna:]
I'm a gentleman, with the mind of Adolf Hitler
And I'm a shine like E.T. waved his finger
With a customized Z-3 to cake up, nigga
No plastic surgeon or scalpel, fix ya face up, nigga
In the hood I be pitching base (yeah)
I'm from the hood where Y. died, B. Ghost and the cops killed Case
And that bitch Brown still got promoted
f**k the hip-hop police, this verse, nigga I wrote it
And the glock you should know that I tote it
It don't take a scientist to hit the block, son, I bubble like potion
I am, Young Hefna, the voice of the new era
Me and money go together like milk and Amaretto
Who you know do it better?
Won't stop 'til the S.I. get their Groove Back sorta like Stella
Hating, you a jealous type of fella
I clap you in the ear and make you faggots go deaf like Helen Keller

f**king with Milla, you guaranteed to lose
I push your wig so far back you make the headline news
Look, my whole set Beneeni so guard ya neck
Never easy with Tecs, be easy, that'll put you to rest
When war's on, home boy, have on more than a vest
You gone, hollows eating through your bones and flesh
I could show you how we do it the best
Pull it on the strip with Mitchell and S
Hand-to-hand all day like I'm boxing with vets
Keep birds in check like I work at a vet
Listen home boy, the.40 cal'll take off half of your chest
Look boy, I will put you to rest
Look, soft niggaz gon' stunt, I'm a back out
When could try to run, little boy, when you see that chrome Mack out
It be a wrap when them hollows eat ya back out
I'm a boss, I could easily back out
Have my set spaz out, flags out, mags out
Fans first so you know we shutting down routes
My team all about getting cash, getting ass
Beef, I'm a split ya mask, yeah boy, take ya stash
Y'all niggaz strictly ass, I'll squeeze the pistol fast
In the kitchen, baking soda, fishscale, whip it fast

[Pa Bazil:]
Fear Factor, ultimate punisher, it's the slasher
One fourth of The Milli' and rap broadcaster
Catch all bastards, call it a wide tyrant
Sex, drugs, hip-hop, food and more violence
One resolution this year, it's more college
Twenty-eight and I'm a grown-ass man, you all childish
I got a history for hustling and violence
And don't get knocked, and witnesses keep it silent
Peace to the mommies that's all sexy and vibrant
Loving when a nigga be thugging or straight 'tiring
That's why I'm glad I went the direction that I did
Shit wasn't planned but it worked out for my kids
And I'm in a class with myself
About half a block away from the wealths and top shelf shit
Get dealt with, bent backwards and belted
f**king with the top of the charts, darts'll melt it
'Cause what I do is leave 'em Blue like Selsen
Nigga better fall the f**k back and wait 'til Hell come
'Cause even in a million years
They'll be feeling fear, I'm a die a millionaire

Yo the bang out, ease T.G. with the gang route
Homey have give to the top, I'm on the same route
Names pout, bitches that snitch they get a chained mouth
Framed out, you don't want Real to pull them things out
Knowing I'm that six and arrow, raise, lick six and explode
Shots blaow, and crack ya coconut, yo
Have ya bitch in the back giving coke in her thong
I'm a pimp, I could have ya moms open her home
Wanna flow? Go go go, charge twenty a bar
Roll the 'dro so high, go me flowing with God
Write it down in the booth, got me spitting it hard
I'm sick contageous like I'm kissing with SARS
Different from y'all, Nerv Mauseberg on the hip
Mine swerve when it spit, it could leave you herbs in a ditch
I sold perp, urge thick when I'm working the fifth
It'll push ya skin back like uncircumsized dicks, get it?

[Fes Taylor:]
Never went to college, out working on degrees
So I'm standing on the block, got crack working for me
Picture me working at Mickey D's, rolling up sticky weed
Run to Disney World, tell Mickey "Freeze! "
Listen, I keep my wrist wrapped
And if ya girl count the diamonds in my bracelet you'll never get ya bitch back
Whether it's soft or hard white, I pitch that
And I don't talk, I start fights with impact
I rope a nigga, hogtie to a kidnap
Similar to how Specman caught a bid flat
This is real shit when you hear the kid rap
Fans all happy again like B.I.G. back
Name anything about bread, I'm with that
Cool bitches, when you drive what I drive you get that
Put five up, me and my homies'll split that
You been wack, rap license revoked, give ya pen back
I've been trapped in the pens with crack
Served fiends, blowing the bean like I'm still with the Pack
If they ask, "Yeah I'm still with the Pack"
That Stat's still on the map, Two-Forty nigga on the Killah Hill track

[King Just:]
Well it's the one man handstand who always hits grand slams
K.J. can can fly heads like Pan Am
Taliban fam fly right out of the quicksand
Wanna be like P. Diddy and make my own Band
On Staten Is-land I cram, don't understand
You f**k around with us and get robbed Van Damme
Shit don't jam when it come to a jam
Yo my rhymes is like weight and every word is one gram
On to Peter Pan, Hannibal Smith, he got plans
You lie about Black Sheeps it's Silence of the Lambs
Wolf Pack, we pack more guns than Pakistan
Park Hillians, damn right we f**k fans
I am what I am and that's all that I am
Tote so much heat I'm able to give tans
Out the boiling water into the frying pan
It's the man in command in heavy demand
In my B-Boy Stance, call an ambulance
I told him gangstas don't dance, he should've known in advance
High stance, whatever battery got you amped
You don't wanna start no shit and the cops'll pitch ya camp
Give light like a lamp, pick ya pockets like pants
I ain't Slim Thug but f**k around with me and be a slim chance
You're sweet like a fragrance you weak niggaz say "Wah"
Now I shut ya shit down like f**king cigarettes man
Mr. Set-Trend, ain't no replacement
The rapper that inspired truth, I replaced him
The Legend Killa, none iller, Park Hiller
Rap realer, shooting threes like Reggie Miller
Darth Villa, I don't even f**k with you niggaz
Saying you the best on DVD, how you figure?
Nigga, to beat the best you gotta go against the best
Come to think about it, I ain't seen you bitch niggaz yet
From the 10304 where the guns go off
Copping ten or more Dutches at the PLO store
And I'm out... [warrior chanting]

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Record Label(s): 2015 Chambermusik Special Products

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