The Professionals Styles P (Ft. Lil' Fame)

[Verse 1: Styles P]
Get to missin' when this pistol get to blickin'
Get your range on the ignition, nigga, listen
Play your position, drug dealer, musician
Now I sell fruit, lets call this fruition
School of hard knocks, yeah, I paid my tuition
If I made my decision that somebody gotta go
Then you oughta dock a boat, you could find 'em when they fishin'
The Ghost and I'm harder than Iron Man and Vision
All the Avengers, too many rap pretenders
Need they brain on the fender, got the full-clip agenda
Who lookin' for a slot? I fit you in the schedule
Gun'll put you to sleep, the bullets made of Benadryl

[Chorus: Lil Fame]
You fuckin' with professionals, we clear the place out
In a place, leave a nigga face down (Trip her out)
We got the spot cased out
You motherfuckers face down
You fuckin' with professionals, we clear the place out
In a place, leave a nigga face down (Trip her out)
We got the spot cased out
You motherfuckers face down
You fuckin' with professionals (Professionals)

[Verse 2: Styles P]
Well, let me get back to it
Lot of niggas hop on the beat but could not rap to it
Now me? I change flows like you change clothes
The mango on the tip of the nine out the Durango
A lot of rappers sweeter than the 14th of February (Yeah)
A pint of Ben and Jerry's (Yeah), claimin' they legendary (Yeah)
I invite you to dance right in the cemetery
I ain't bring a song, just a forty-four long
You a bunkie nigga, why you fuckin' with King Kong?
You a goldfish, I'm the megladon in the pond
I'll make you a famous ghost
Yeah, you listenin' to Fame and Ghost, you cock sucker