Frukwan - 2 to Da Head lyrics

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Frukwan - 2 to Da Head lyrics

[Intro: Frukwan] Check it out... check it out.. Yo.. yo... yo [Chorus 2X: Frukwan] Little Johnny Walker Red, 2 to the head Big shot, slingin' crack and rocks, found dead Some say it was the cops Mothers said it was our brothers on the block [Frukwan] Yo, makin' stacks of cash money, feel the drama drop CREAM of the crop, I keep it hot Feel the rhyme in it, dominant, fake a** talkin' Muthaf**as f** the wine, get ya mind open So he wanna sail with the six pack? Cork his thought, sh** to muzzle, chase a trouble, pa**, guzzle It's lookin' bad, sellin' every f**in' thing that he had Osirus, weak a** computer virus The vintage fighter, Johnny United Claim to be the finest heavyweight, walkin' Empire State Livin' lavish, but in exaggerate of lust Funds way to the tongues, no excuse for bigger guns Rendevous makin' moves, the physical endevour Hypin' fright, k** and excite, my P. defender Rended you in comp, like a hundred n***as when they stomp Muthaf**as get stomped, what? [Chorus 2X] [Frukwan] Yo, watch when brothers get ill, I knew that Pain and repurcuss', bust, bust, no discuss Rush in position to blaze, stard bustin' Circumstance put you in a panic, hold ya cannon Fox 5, got ya hangin' from the wire Where the debris trunks, pieces of lead heat up ya body In six to avenge what it is, when a brother gets shell shocked Figure enemies paradox The tense, relentless, never end this The scandal was a**ault and bust the vault Brothers that fought, at ease Crash the 'ment, just to free up bu*ts Lookin' forward and to livin' it up Five/six deep, followin' Jeeps and ordernents Weapon supply, fugitive spies, subordinants Smoke screen, three brothers done lost their lives From the team, while gettin' get caught up in the government scheme [Chorus 2X] [Frukwan] Yo, brace the armor, face the cap slugs in your back We escape, through the labryinth, hope Battle is sk**ed decision, act of precision The coke was depth bein' the only one left Couldn't divide the rules skated with the j**els Lay low with pesos, chronic and blow Add a couple stunts, and his trail got cold Headed straight for the block when he drove his Rolls Seen and heard, yo, word, give me the four Point blank at the tank, empty clip at the dour Slow your roll, the pain was too immense to run Knew that his time would come, top issue Branded by a government official The boys in blue, Paparazzi circled the block Rounded up six cats whose phones were tapped Still frontin', nobody knew nothin', yo! [Chorus 2X]