Freddie Foxxx/Bumpy Knuckles - Capture (Militia Pt. 3) lyrics

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Freddie Foxxx/Bumpy Knuckles - Capture (Militia Pt. 3) lyrics

[DJ Premier] "Give a n***a pain"-Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows"-Guru "Give a n***a pain"-Big Shug "It's the real...it's the Militia" [Big Shug] First name vete-, last name -ran I drop bombs hit you with the curse of Jevon Broken arms, shattered gla**es, whipped a**es I advise you to tell us where the cash is Itchy fingers cause nothing but gun fire We disallow all these cats in the camp We the champs, not really to boast and brag Bustin' heads, body bags and toe tags Black mags to blow your whole chest in half If you don't know the equation then you can't do the math I know you cram to understand the plan, but you too Caught up in the rapture, front and we will capture See men and strap ya, co*k back and blast ya Blow up your f**in' house while we still lookin' at ya Militia man...man part three [DJ Premier] "Put your money in the bank, and hold rank" "Give a n***a pain" -] Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -] Guru "I push these lyrics through any emcee And make it burn (burn)" -] Freddie Foxxx "Put your money in the bank, and hold rank" "Give a n***a pain" -] Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -] Guru "It's the militia" -] Freddie Foxxx [Guru] Just to feed the babies I'll infect you like rabies With a lust for the gravy, you know the god must be crazy I'm sick with it, I'm built with stilts for you midgets While you fidget, you could get k**'t for your digits I'll creep on the low, keep it a secret yo I swore an oath to dump on you, out the Jeep window I don't care if you a geek or a thug, you sleepin' on us And you could catch it, some royal heat from the snub Since the streets is watchin' n***as might see us often We told you rap cats we would keep it poppin' See all I got is a lot of bad news for y'all You're gonna need more than a lot of tattoos on y'all You got an army, you still ain't got no wins against us You're gonna need more than doo rags and Timb's against us And f** your goons cause we always get what we're after We bought you this book of torture, this one is Capture [DJ Premier] "Put your money in the bank, and hold rank" "Give a n***a pain" -] Big Shug "Listen to a brother who knows" -] Guru "It's the militia" -] Freddie Foxxx [Freddie Foxxx] There's one ripped out the frame, felony act Everybody get the f** up, welcome me back I'm the unseen hand that controls 200 n***as Pouring while on the street out of unseen vans I'm the law of the land, the rawness of man That'll show up on stage, puffin' on contraband Capture, duct tape wrapped ya, slapped ya Served up my Venus and Serenas, co*ked back Clapped ya - to Internet emcees I'm virus I'm a warrior, n***as screamin' "Bumpy shot Cyrus" I'm checked in to every hotel that you lay in n***as come to my suite to pick up heat Y'all know who wrote the bible in rap, for keepin it real Y'all know who buck fifty your face, I'm keepin it Seal It's capture, get out the truck, I'm keepin' your wheels Clapped ya, cause you've got a gun you never conceal I leave my hardcore demeanor in every rap arena And underground club that I play in I spit raw verses that y'all ain't sayin' Cause your soul was bought for what they payin' You wanna have Bumpy's heart you got to have Bumpy's chest I'll bust right 'till I find just Bumpy left I'll bust mics 'till I have just enough breath To take your heart, it's thug grand d**h CAPTURE!