lirik lagu dj muggs vs. ill bill feat. q-unique - giants stadium (feat. (q-unique)
live at giants stadium with
ghostface & van halen, cypress hill & acdc too.
sarah palin is a wu-tang fan,
she was chillin’ with diddy
during “motherless child”
she wild out & showed us
her t-tties.
sign of the black mark,
digital triple six cash cards.
devils clashing with ansaars,
b-tches grabbin’ their tampons.
i have to thank god
for the places he put me,
or rather for hip-hop & the places it took me
aim at the game,
hit the scoreboard
with the sawed off.
the warlords, trying to recite what i write
could cause your jaw to fall off.
flow is unique,
speak to the people.
my flow is the street
words are the traffic lights & my soul is the beat.
my discipline is like walking on hot coals with your feet.
my confidence is like what you feel
when you’re holding the heat.
but, you don’t need ratchets to validate the fact
that you’re great.
but watch ya mouth,
i’m old school,
you’ll get cracked in the face.
its farragut road,
trapped in a code,
my fingers numb from baggin’ up c-ke.
i’m stranded on a planet of chrome, in the jungle.
where the cannibals roam
spazzin’ with ratchets at your dome,
creepin’ up amongest -ss-ssins of the soul.
(2)
i’m a brooklyn beast,
bringing honor amongst crooks & thieves.
fill the bong and lets cook these trees,
hear the words of a murder fanatic.
blastin’ with a black ratchet,
i’m a burner mechanic.
i’m here with howie’s nephew,
together we connecting the dots.
we at giants stadium in the executive box,
in a constellion of rappers,
i’m the top star,
super bad mclovin shootin’ a cop’s car,
yeah we’re all loading the clip & filling the heat.
but nah y’all aint killing the street like
ill & unique,
spit venomous sh-t like a
coiled snake king
and grab the cash in your safe
behind the oil painting.
runnin though new yourk’s mazeof blocks,
blazin’ glocks and
decepticons lasers pop at megan fox.
the fox 5 newsroom, where my sanity dies,
cause i get more truth out of watching family guy.
the black yankee fitted over the black doo rag.
the black banana clip thrown in my black schoolbag.
my memories of lafayette high,
when i walk between the
coney island thugs and
the mafia ties.
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