Who the only one with over a thousand guns?
Hit your wife with the sawed-off from the shower powers I devour
Yo what's the dilly yo?
Hide the blood, give you the gun, run and hide
A piece of paper, a decent caper and someone to strafe you
Surrounded in green like flowers in Spring
He thought it was a suicide
And if I get murdered, 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina'
Run out of the building or get blast in your guess
Illegal money turns legal now we runnin' a laundromat
Used to call me, Punny 'cause my fam was always hungry
Foes and enemies meaning the same in the dictionary
Yo, what's the dilly yo?
My niggaz'll rumble with any man for a Benny Fran
Pour me a cup of vodka, bury me next to my father
The battle's on, where I roam in composition
Yo, wanna rumble with Pun hah?
Runnin' up in niggaz cribs like I paid the bill
My mental's compatible with the radicals
I'm selling perico
My odyssey type, qualities allow me to poli' with animals
like your first time in jail when you got fucked by an inmate
Your hunchbacked and wack rap is packed in your backpack
Shit on the whole industry
Now my eyes open, in my hands I got the Gatling
Suicide, it's a suicide
I forgot, you don't read, so take this hole in your chest, blaow
Your better off in D.C. with the mayor smoking crack
So Big Pun, count the stacks, make it fast
Try to imagine what they can sacrifice for twenty grand
I'm uptown making moves just like Castro
Yo, this ain't a diss, Wyclef bomb threat
I'm uptown making moves just like Castro
Make you squeal the combination to the safe for wealth
Tec for tec, or we can go text for text, oh
Niggaz is cannibals and the ghetto's a jungle
I'm selling perico
Yo, yo, yo, keep the lights keep the camera all I want is the action
I lace your grill with the fire starter
But now we rollin' lovely, and you feel worse, want my money
Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero
I turn 'Mr. Rogers Neighborhood' topsy turvy
A hardcore crowd, waitin' to see, if I break
Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero
This ain't Pictionary, all you see is the cemetery
Up in the Boogie Down, bitches swallow the team, pile on the green
It'll never happen, I'm on balance like a Libra
Fists of fury, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry
In three days, I rise like Christ and still sober
I'm looking for the guy that sent me to say hi to Satan
Bodies, from World War I and II is there
You don't want a third war that's nuclear warfare
I'm all about the fundamentals like Pun and pencil
Mucho trabajo, poquito dinero
Or struggle on the simple and humble
Let your steel burst, cause I'd rather see you in hell first
And pound out we jettin' to the ground uptown
Yo who puff more Owls than Pun? Pile on more styles than Pun?
For now I'm a King, so it's more than money, all the honies
So when the DT shows up
I'm selling perico
Where you either bet all your bundles
Yo, what's the dilly yo?
Niggaz'll slice you and dice you into a thousand pieces
