Click Pow

[Hook: Demetrius Capone] Click pow, niggas hit the ground We finna murder the game we spit the sickest style Dickin' strippers, clickin' triggers the sickest niggas out So tell the industry now we finna end the drought, so bow, down Nigga bow, ya favorite rapper is lame, we finna sit him down We came to snatch up this game, we finna stick around We aimin' raps at ya brain, we finna spit a round, so bow, down... [Verse 1: Julius Luciano] Uh oh, somebody done pissed the Grim Reaper off For every emcee that diss me, I'm, diggin' ya ditch deeper Y'all convinced me that y'all actors, y'all rappers Made up of all chatter, ya six feet of talk I lay ya down; you're surrounded in six feet of chalk I ain't shit-talkin', I'm shit-speakin' Why you pricks think it's called, monologue? You got it y'all? Yeah you pricks thinkin', are What gives me the gall You see I paid the fee to be a big G and boss I got the receipt, you don't know how much this shit even costs See never will I receive a loss, cause I'm comin' after meals Like dessert but ain't shit sweet or soft Fuck a fever or a mere sneeze or cough; I'm a sick motherfucker, like I got imbreedin' thoughts You wouldn't be the best hands down if you cut ya dick beaters off All that poppin' shit, nigga halt! [Verse 2: Demetrius Capone] You can try: robbin' my ice, robbin' my shine My shine: is robbin' ya sight, is robbin' you blind Now that's what I call a opposite crime I'm half man, half machine; I'm Optimus and 'Pac in his prime Spittin' sick and optimistic, that mean I spit, HIV positive rhymes, Is he, out of his mind? I think, I police, the police, cockin' the nine I son the ones -- I'm THE father of time... My niggas is strictly the mafia Stickin' a Glock in ya mouth, as if it's a thermometer On a mission to try to fuck Cubana Lust Tryna get her to swallow nut, 'til that thick bitch is spittin' my daughter up Ya bitch is blowin' my dick like it's a harmonica I'm gettin' Lewinsky'd like her moniker is Monica She's fond of my anaconda I honor her If niggas is trippin' I BLAM they yarmulke -- cancel Hanukkah! [Hook: Demetrius Capone] [Verse 3: Andrew "Dice" Dinero] If y'all don't know I'm the shits when I spit You pricks, got me fucked up, like plenty Henny sips You're not that bright like a bulb that's dimly lit I'm skitz, yeah I'm mad as if I'm pretty pissed! But get me pissed, and I'm spillin' clips willy-nilly Let my milli really split some melons and so many Bics Put many clips of dark in your vision like an eclipse Y'all in perfect health, meanin' you niggas ain't really sick! This is toxic spit, this is Napalm talk I don't mean I'm leavin' when I say "I'm off!" Nigga I stay on my grind, I can't nod off I take ya watch off ya wrist, that's how I take time off... Y'all want beef? Y'all actin'; y'all hoes vegans I say 'come back' to you cats still I'm crackin' ya whole teeth in Collapsin' ya dome piece in, don't snooze with tools on me Move on me and lose homies mu'fucka! [Verse 4: Kenny Siegel] Yeah, nigga ya rhymin' is 'bout as bad as my bottom bitch My rhymin' is so on time that a prick could set his watch to it I promise this: I got a ditch I dump bodies inside of it My goal is to fill it to the top even though it's bottomless... Y'all small time, fightin' for block domination While C.O.B.'s tryna lock the nation That's cause we colder than ganja blazin', definin' greatness We as cold as a lock combination I gives these dudes headaches, I'm more so a concussion I'm drunk in the booth, just like my tool I'm loaded and bussin' My flow is disgustin' don't sleep on me when you hold a discussion You niggas wouldn't be close to me if our shoulders was touchin' No fuckin' around, C.O.B. is that cold unit You at a stand-still cause you have no movement Yeah, this the fuckin' U-Gang papi I'm the black Saddam who's-sane? Not me! [Hook: Demetrius Capone]