Lyrics Capone-N-Noreaga

Capone-N-Noreaga

B EZ

I heard that nigga Capone's home yo...word to Motha..that nigga Nore'

doin' his mothafuckin' thing...thugged out

entertainment...knowwhatI'msayin'?, niggas still in the streets...Ill

Will, Braveheart nigga, there's a thin line between streets and

business..so we gotta have balance and be easy...

I heard you fags wanna catch me off guard

put Tecks to my heart, the death of Escobar

under your breath, whispers in the dark

I hear it 'cause the street ain't loyal to choose sides

prepare for the beef, whoever lose dies

rich and I'm thuggin'

I can't trust nothin', this bitch that I'm fuckin'

this clip that I'm bustin' could jam in my fist

look at my hand, finger pussy with expensive rings

cut coke cookies, wrote poetry

and broke noses B.

the voice from Heaven

I'm God sent, of course a legend

this is part 1, speak my sermon, the hood reverand

blunted eyes red

C-Class, a Hundred times Five Red

CD's blast, speed fast, haters drop dead

I'm gorgeous

black Goddess flip the arm rest, flip the cordless

her body stacks the best, ass is flawless

finally the long awaited shit, ghetto people

the sequel

Nas, CNN, nobody's equal.

Yo, Be easy

keep the club off the heezy

straight thugs in the back, drink creezy

be easy, but we still smoke treezy

see us rippin' the shows with thugged eezy.

Niggas picked me the boss

Ricky Ross

Lex Two-Fifty Horse power, click and devour the source

if it's flour then swallow your loss

I cock Fours, kick in Poppi's doors

all for the cash and the cause

niggas break big fractions of laws

so what, we got it sewn up, smack every cat on the board

I speak the truth, guns spit at you, shakin' my palm

it's pitiful, wavin' my wand

The Don, a Hundred follow me like Farrakhan

chasin' my Henny, embrace Benny's

it's quite Frank, my niggas 'll kill, never waste a Penny

money stay well invested

feel the weight on my necklace

when death is too close flip the next shit

thug the game out

bust biscuits, pull the Range out

public enemy, QueensBridge where I hang out

sweet scent of weed I wear like a fragrance

my energy's kinetic, mind power type ancient.

I see death through the corner, die, kingdom come

Six 500's, pull up right in front of the slum

Sticky green fingers soldiers of the great God

Clarence spoke to the poor but he lived in Oz

An ill hook like Roy Jones, I'm a street corner bastard

and crush weed with the hashish

Bandana head dome wrapped

Caddy trucks with the grills and the chrome snaps

I'm on point like Al Sharpton, come peep the M.U. marksman

The S-Class is shittin' on your weak Datsun

Graffiti written on the Bible, my life is wicked

I see dead corpses, and Rolls Royces

Put your heart on your lap, listen you hear voices

My whole persona is the drama and to smoke skama

I can lift it up, Willy what in front of your slut

Money bustin out my pocket, your bank is stopped