Harlem U.S.A. (Uptown Version) Children of the Corn

[Cam'Ron]
Now I'm off on a rendezvous, disponible
Niggas is comical, but I'm phenomenal
Jiggin niggas abdominals, and solar plexus
I got to test I get my tech and wetcha
No need to make no lecture cause I'm taking all the extras
Moves my heat makes, shooting and stabbing everyone my peeps hate
The Killa "Sweepstakes" robbing you cheap skates
From each state, I love bitches with swollen hips
Dice to roll on "trips" got stolen clips
I hold and spit to get your colon split, nigga
Cause when I get vexed, I split necks, looking around to see who
I'm a hit next, I lived inside a Trip-Plex
I used to get Wic checks, but that wasn't even my theme
Started clapping for that cream, robbing Tavern on the Green
To get away parolers with my soldiers, a bunch of high rollers
Who throw boulders, shooting women that push the strollers
And that's the way that the baddest act, matter fact
Where the fuck my gat is at? I live for drugs and rat-tat-tat

[Hook: repeat 2X]
It don't matter what you do or say
We capping you, kilo capital, Harlem (Uptown) USA

[Bloodshed]
From here to Mexico, I clean up, like "The Professional"
Blessing you, with hollow point joints inside your ventrical
I rap exceptional, captivate you like I have to hate you
Deactivate you from your brain then decapitate you
Then the coroners dispute, I toss fellas
Fuck Red and Blue I step to gang members wearing "Cross Colors"
So step to this thirst from first Ave
Get your mother's purse grab, my shotty got more bodies
Then a hearse have
I'm leaving niggas thicker than the reservoir
So if you stressing hard, I'll leave your whole fucking chest ajar
Mics I be tearing them, from here to Maryland
I'm known to bury men and drug mics with more dope then heroin
I stash cash ain't no need for flashing
I love my techs more then sex so I guess I'm into "Heat of Passion"
So take heed to what this thug said
Don't find out why they call me Bloodshed or you might wind up with your mug spread