Furious Anger

*Report set to "Co-Defendant" beat* [Reporter] Shyheim, the youngest member of the Wu-Tang Clan, was jumped at A Staten Island club, and his face still bares the scar *car spinning out of control and crashing* *beat drops* *multiple gunshots* "And you will know my name is the lord..." -] Samuel L. Jackson [Big L] Shyheim, yeah Corleone Uh-huh, check it out Y'all niggas be walkin the streets, iced out Not knowin the walk, so put the price out To get you stuck and punch ya lights out Or catch ya car in the night and snatch ya wife out And beat the ho up if you don't give the dough up You got me pissed off, frontin and ya whole clique soft If ya had ya Roly on, I might cut ya wrist off Then lick off, and slide ya bitch off, punk I hope ya ready for the kick-off Ya flankin niggas and I'm gettin rich off I done sold coke, sold crack, sold smoke, sold smack Now I wanna go plat', can I get a soul clap It ain't no part a time out, once I climb out The garbage can, wit 2 nines out, and blow ya spine out Oh I got you cats by a long-shot, every song hot 1-3-9 and Lennox is a strong block I left enough a y'all stinkin What the fuck was y'all thinkin? My shit's tight, nigga, I spit writin Yo, what? [Shyheim] Young outlaw, the state wanna get rid a me I'll probably die from the death penalty Y'all analog, Shyheim I keep it digity I'm not pussy so I don't need security Like Big L, I'm MVP on the street I did wet more people than the pool and the beach So be easy, or I'll expose you like shock TV O.G., that's why they put me in a movie Don't screw me, cuz if I punch you in ya face You'll probably try and sue me, and take me to Judge Judy Look me in my eyes cuz ya handshake don't fool thee Stapleton Staten Islander, the name's marked on the calender Ain't no screwin off a silencer, uh-uh *gunshots* "And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance And furious anger on those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers, and you will know my name is the lord." -] Samuel L. Jackson [Big L] If you got somethin to say, then cough it out Cuz niggas be wantin beef, but when you pull out The heat they ready to talk it out What is there to talk about? You was just frontin, now it ain't nuttin Ain't that somethin? I should start bustin anyway And put one a you punks in the ground Y'all niggas be killin me with y'all faces round, jumpin around Like you scarin us, not even Cuz me and Shy' gon' be some thugs til we stop breathin "My name is the lord..." -] Samuel L. Jackson [Shyheim] Niggas be actin like they hoodlums Until they get shot up or locked up, now they Bloods and Muslims In the Wu, benz bang em like a Benz, touch kid nuttin thin Put his ear to his chin I gotta win and beat this game of dyin rich and old Cuz these playa-hatin niggas wanna block my gold It's untold like the truth, they thirsty for my juice But when I let loose, have them jumpin out they boots