[Verse 1 – Crypt the Warchild]
YY'all get too close, I'mma squeeze the life out of you
You speak too loosely with your words, I'mma silence you
You ain't a leader, dog—nobody'd die for you
You ain't a killer, dog—who the fuck lied to you?
And I don't even fuck with y'all ballerinas
Tryin' to tiptoe by me, I'mma stab your team up
Tryin' to get dough by me, I'mma snatch your cream up
‘Cause my squad gotta eat and y'all can't come between us
Thoughts of blowin' my fuckin' head off when I look at my gun
I cock back, can't squeeze when I look at my son
I stop that, can't breathe. Y'all wouldn't walk in my shoes
I'm antisocial, don't speak unless I talk with a tool
[Verse 2 – Esoteric]
You can take the braggin', the boastin', add up the passion devotion
The crabs that lack in emotion, we throw 'em back in the ocean
The Pharaohs packin' the potion, we back in action and rappers are chokin'
Actin' like they smokin' cats, their backs will get broken
And '96 was the year I started talkin' with Vinnie
Rockin' the city, talkin', really reppin' Boston and Philly
Now you can find us lined up with OS and QD
We flow best, so don't test, we grotesque and beauty
I profess a slow death, your plan of attack's a panic attack
Still better than Bush's plan for Iraq
My fam in the back, known to keep it realer than most
While you fake cats cower like the Steelers coach
YY'all get too close, I'mma squeeze the life out of you
You speak too loosely with your words, I'mma silence you
You ain't a leader, dog—nobody'd die for you
You ain't a killer, dog—who the fuck lied to you?
And I don't even fuck with y'all ballerinas
Tryin' to tiptoe by me, I'mma stab your team up
Tryin' to get dough by me, I'mma snatch your cream up
‘Cause my squad gotta eat and y'all can't come between us
Thoughts of blowin' my fuckin' head off when I look at my gun
I cock back, can't squeeze when I look at my son
I stop that, can't breathe. Y'all wouldn't walk in my shoes
I'm antisocial, don't speak unless I talk with a tool
[Verse 2 – Esoteric]
You can take the braggin', the boastin', add up the passion devotion
The crabs that lack in emotion, we throw 'em back in the ocean
The Pharaohs packin' the potion, we back in action and rappers are chokin'
Actin' like they smokin' cats, their backs will get broken
And '96 was the year I started talkin' with Vinnie
Rockin' the city, talkin', really reppin' Boston and Philly
Now you can find us lined up with OS and QD
We flow best, so don't test, we grotesque and beauty
I profess a slow death, your plan of attack's a panic attack
Still better than Bush's plan for Iraq
My fam in the back, known to keep it realer than most
While you fake cats cower like the Steelers coach
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