4th Disciple - The Push lyrics

[Beretta 9] This is for all y'all wanna be Millitant, Camoflauge (Y'all n***as ain't raw) Word up, we 'bout to show you how it's done (Word up man) How to rock the boots (Like this) The camoflauge (Great damn n***a White) The guns (The big ones that go..) [Beretta 9] Yo, watch for the shrapnel admiral Didn't know the kid was tactful My missles whistle at you spactual, subtract you Surrender all, we got you Blitzkrieg, fatigues bleed, it's natural The Army, take out your front line calmly - you like that Tell the Cap' the kids back the Millitant My regiment be five percent put Steelo in k**in these tracks, Beretta on attack This one for my die-hard n***as, watch yo' back Or wind up in the graveyard, in Allah tint Ask the fans, it's the Gods again And if we got to, then we k** again "Louie under, we're making another push" "Get your people together.. lieutenant?" "I got nothin left" "Dig a little deeper" [Superb] Yo.. Up all night writin darts Sniffin the pure, Christmas Eve '99 reminiscin and sh** (Bout) who got hit, (Bout) who got b**h (Bout) who b**hes that is, who got kids and Who sell crack, who a rapper now Who money-washin, who was P.O Try to get him lockied up but his b**h is C.O And she gon' tell the captain, he gon' buy him a boat The cap' gon' tell the judge, he gon' buy him a goat (And) The judge gon' tell the D.A., he gon' buy him some coke The D.A. gon' tell his lawyer that his client can go And, all y'all n***as mad I got the iron from Ghost And, Chef still cookin what you tryin to get roast Bobby'll beat that a**, Meth do a show in ya coats And Cap'll don ya, the Masta will k** ya You f**in with a true master, f**in with power You f**in with the Wu ba*tards, f**in with ours We the most livest, most largest, squadrant Sergeants in Africa, thugs from America Live from New York, straight from Florida City All sh**ty, screamin "Play more Biggie" Hood like you blowin, per blow more quickly Still poppin pain that cause four-fifty I ain't know they was young, I just like short b**hes [Islord] Yo, you f**ed up when you crossed my line I got the nine, pointed at ya back spine So feel the heat, as I let the lead tear your meat Cuz I represent the real n***as from the streets I'm comin trough blackdown, with the fat tre' pound Strapped, co*ked back While my right-hand man plays a role in the back With the mack - Subject to murderous art As I finesse it and also compose the track like Mozart This nine'll script, n***as get finked up In this rap game, it's madly insane So don't go against the grain, or get your life tooken With ya head chopped off, placed in a plastic bag Its Central booking, forever kings [9th Prince] Aiyyo I spit verses that'll bury you beneath the surface A murder this like voodoo curses 9th Prince forever nervous, an*log n***as is short-circuit k**a be k**as the purpose Guns in holsters what the earth is, musical apocalypse Run up on the label, hold the A and R for a hostage Limps from four-footers who's with it, go 'head spit it The weed and dust makes me k** sh**, k** sh**... "The way I see it, we've got two choices" "We can settle for being slaughtered in the push tomorrow" "Or we can take those tanks out tonight.." "If we do it, it's just us" "We'll slip past the lines unchecked" "Just another sorry-a** patrol" "Lemme get this straight" "Yesterdauy your point was Section 8" "No" "You wanna lead some renegade force against their tanks"