Protect Ya Neck Freestyle

[DJ Kay Slay:] Exclusive Freestyle! Jae Millz, Papoose, Canibus, Lord Tariq, McGruff, Cory Gunz! Come on! [Jae Millz:] I get kited till the haze gone That's why my lungs look like they could be related to Grace Jones You better check what the beat is sayin, I'm like a stove on it The Dark, it ain't hard to see I'm far from a? Harlem, faggot fuck your past views You think it's '89 the way niggas still snatch jewels Plus niggas clap tools And they'll have lead engraved in your skin like the ink they use for tattoos Look I ain't one of them rap dudes who act rude And yack about how much back in the day they gat blew Nah homie, I don't spit it, I live it Shit matter fact I do both witout even movin my pivot I swear I wish I had a camcorder So you could see how I go in booths and come out with charges of manslaughter You motherfuckers prolly heard it befo But just in case you dumb niggas ain't know... [Papoose:] I'm a four bar killa, killa reflection in all ya'll mirrors First Slay gave me breakfast now all ya'll dinner Cause my shots wasn't for ya'll niggas But it's enough room in the cemetery for all ya'll niggas I carry the Mack Milli, I don't play with toy guns I raise M&M's like the Detroit slums Thugacation Nation, niggas avoid them Brooklyn is the place we build and destroy from Pull out the M-1, leave you and your boys done Niggas thought I was 97 the way I point one You can't compares us, you here to fear us, then plan the grammar I'm the hand in hander, blam the cannons, I'm jamming hammers Put a knot in back of his head just like a bandana Niggas always want static, that's why I pack an antenna From New York, Pap is a monster I got a hundred guns and fifty clips, half of 'em revolvers [Canibus:] Yo I put it to you so raw, you prolly O.D. on the floor That's what you get for disagreeing with God The Lebron James Bond, my aim with the arm is so long That I could tag along, with Socom I spit to the beat, flip like Swizz did to the beat At sunrise I spit to the East Niggas talk shit in the streets When they bout to get released, they ain't got no lip for the beast Make you strip like police, I point the heat From the hip to get leverage if you more than four deep Got a pistol grip hawk with a chrome beak Shit is so deep, I check to make sure it's no leaks Lookin like Jada in the black Jaggari Half Jag, half Ferrari, the valet saw me Shorty wanna know how the flesh work, what's under my sweatshirt That's why I hit the gym till my chest hurt Next year's summer I'm a kill a conjecture For now I'm just a hustler tryna give you my best work [Lord Tariq:] Lord, pimpin it's truest, I really do this Still amongst the realest and focused as a Buddhist Notice how I stroke this, quote it "I influence" The youngest to the oldest, I'm Jesus to the Judas (huh) The reason the game done weakened the chain They speakin my name, they speak it in vain, but they clueless And when I reach for the thang, they each wanna change They speech and they claims, But, I'm a do this Cock and squeeze on who wanna romp with me Got G's on that (OOWEE), that'll stomp with me By now you shoulda heard how the Feds wan get me And how my bread long like the dreads on Ziggy You're dead wrong silly, I ain't tryna take nine shots To sell records, that there song's Fifty I ain't doin time cause I'm good with crime Sorry, but that's how my crew is designed Team Saga, we chasin that agua, that's the glory You could see it on the E True Hollywood Stories Bout how they hollerin for me, blind how to endure me But not witout profit, surely you ridin for me (C'mon B) [McGruff:] Yo the Fif will lift you, so damn high up in the sky Niggas prolly think you could fly Niggas like you don't think you could die Yap nigga's shines, throw drinks in they eyes Stick-up kids, shoot it out, like Billy The Kid Shit I rap about is the shit, I really done did Shit you rap about is the shit you really don't live You think the streets don't know you oh-so-fake Lameass cornball namer hold no weight You's a sucka in the hood bitch, nigga I'm hood rich Strippin all the good shit, stay in some bullshit Sprayin the full clip, makin sure every bullet count Bounce a couple bullets in ya mouth Know where you rest at, pull up at ya house Wifey, I bless that, be pullin up her blouse Holla at ya boy, in ya cranberry exhaust Beige interior, pedal to the floor Heavy on the bling, Sean John velour [Cory Gunz:] When them shells pop out them twelves, pellets whiz and they twist niggas He filled mine with blanks, said wassup till we switched blinkers Thinkin I'm dumb, but he don't know my 9 got a twin sister Sixteen kids in her, they hungry, they skipped dinner Squalie on that hollow tip diet, ya gettin thinner You know the difference now between a wild and a bitch nigga The type that go to trial the other would rather skip nigga Hard livin not knowin if your momma exist nigga Started with the yellow radio on the block spittin Everybody and they mother heard before Pop listened I was on that 2Pac and with Hova and Nas dissin Each other, it was hard cause both of them had caught my vision I'm better than whatever rapper you bring in front of me It's a lot of Jiggas and Pacs but it's only one of me Don't nobody want it, that's the reason I'm bored Cause they buyin they ways into battles they cannot afford Before I get at a nigga, I go straight to the source Shit I say make 'em get pen, paper, and a Thesaurus The Militia, they ain't got shit for us I'll have a nigga runnin like Forest, through a forest, tryin to shake the Taurus Like he holdin the torch But him getting away is equivalent to a turtle outrunning a Porsche Go straight through a nigga door, with the four four And the moss, in my jacket, if he chattin, to the force Then he gon get lost, and we both drivin off But the catch is, his lips'll be taped to the exhaust Of a four door Ford, with multiple horsepowers Ya label gotta be pussy cause they endorse cowards nigga