Too Ill (Remix)

(feat. King Just, Leatha Face, Polite, Profes) [Chorus] [Cappadonna] "Too Ill, I represent Park Hill" [Streetlife] "Killah Hill District" [Inspectah Deck] "Killah Killah Hill" [Polite] Yo where I come from, you coward niggas are scared to come Where my dogs blast guns that'll leave yo' ass numb Live niggas move silent, come recognize 'em Yo, you don't bust, yo toss 'em off the Verrazano, nigga fuck 'em Stakes is higher, never trust a fuckin liar Send him to his moms tied up in barbed wire You fuckin bastard, everything we spit is hazard Master this rap shit, another Killah Hill classic Nuclear weapon, come on, we gotta hear the recipe Hit you with the same slug that killed Kennedy We do this for the Hell of it and my wolves ain't smellin it Killah Hill nigga, all that bullshit's irrellevant [Profes] Killah Hill smacks flames out you, speak fire And deep fry you if you want beef like Meyers Smash you like car tires, shoes stars buyers Playin us close, shouldn't have jumped off the wires Y'all rappers is a bunch of faggots, tellin war stories If you're a real live warrior for two full moon halice Creap through like Wallace, you ain't the wildest Son you're feminine like hair stylists Staten Island, slugs tear through ya palace Packed guns have you in Wonderland like Alice Any nigga step to Profes get embarrased My wolves let 'em have it, Lounge Lo mackin his carriage [Chorus x4] [Lounge Mode] Yo, you fake fucks duckin the ratchet, we see the big hole That cannon ball type, let's fight to make ya wig blow Though Wiggs knows I'm still Loungin at the Ooh One crew, Baby Vern, Clocka Dot and Boy Blue But still, I'm Too Ill I represent Park Hill Swear them niggas like to spark but in the dark they kill It's on, you know the style, word bond, you know we wild Perform on the song, I brought along some extra arms It be the work of the slang spit with WP And Cream Team, the O.T.F. is in me The elevator shaft BlackOut! Leatha Face take the Mac out Polite get 'em, L.G.P. count the stack out We bounce out the back door and smack son Clap him with the four, make sure you push back dunn Cuz where I'm from my niggas don't play And by the way my niggas won't say Who spit ten in the gun blaze [King Just] Eh-yo I came from the place with perfect MC's The best weed rollers when it came to the trees The baddest hustlers to the worst car thieves When delf breathed first, jumped out, the wrong keys Since the Paris Crew and Avenue had me I was rappin in beast, had my name in the streets Killah Hill-a, was all in Park Villa If we didn't stay in town and you wasn't down nigga How you figure they gon' make a Hill track And don't put K.J. back on the map? He's back! It's gon' take a nation to hold us Just as highly to score 10304 and King Just [Leatha Face] We ain't came from under the stairs, when facin peers It's a rare scene similar to the bloody version of Shakespeare Trap snakes in a snare, precussion flares My function here is the discuss to strength, don't talk Spray sidewalks, yap him, cut his hair Why your jaws higher than the law? Ya force spit by the scorpion's Tai Scorched ya flame torch, train of thought blazed off Mock waterized, FAM Othorized, flame off the side Die by the scorpion's eyes Pull the five, acquire the metal, get side of logic We deposit flame generators, from Clifton Projects Heart of darkness, frame twisted in the figure eight position Engrave an incision on ya face big as the state of Michigan [Chorus x5] [Chorus x4: Cappa only]