DJ Scratch - I'll Wait (feat. Zone 7) lyrics

(feat. Lavell, Roland Harris) [PMD] Ah... yeah.. check it, 9-4 (yeah) Turn it up one notch Yeah, this goes out to the brothas in Brooklyn (Crooklyn) All the brothas to the east coast, west coast (word) Sittin in them cars, you know what I'm sayin' (word 'em up) Ready to blow them amps, yeah hit them ba** bu*tons To all the get low posses, you know what I'm sayin' Zone 7 in the house (word 'em up) Word bond Got my man Lavell to the left, my man Roland Harris ridin' shotgun And of course DJ Scratch on the 1 and 2 (yeah) Yo, Lavell, you ready to flip dough in 9-4? Sic 'em, champ [Lavell] I'm snakebitten, spittin' venom infected with the outrageous Contagious spreadin', nobody's protected Microphones floatin' freely through zones, crushin' clones So don't disturb me and the Mic Doc, searchin' real domes Push the bu*ton, helter skelter, guard your mental sh**'s past the point, on the brink not blinkin' is essential n***as blast the joint, n***as blastin' n***as while I'm blastin Spastically out of electric sockets rarely seen like Hailey's Comet What was that? Bring it back. What was that? sh** was tight, fat All that new vocabulary get the bozack Squad, the Def Squad, your brain is numb Lavell Ba**, Roland Harris and Parrish Smith stomp that cranium [Roland Harris] While brothas swingin' they paws often, knowin' who it is, it's teleportic Me, I'm Roland Harris, he's movin past the Lavell staff His only images of a god is, yo, when you see the PMD rolled a ma**ive squad yo if you peter See me no jack joke to jack rope-a-dope, no no no no We got bloody palms suddy, f**in' already knew that though Crazy is the peels the reals going to ace you over gills The most f**ed up sh**'s about to hit the streets, which is worse, G, Me Oh, they givin' out guns, yo. Gun control bills But they called Big Ro ill, causin' our brothas to sit back and chill Until align the squad G, free the squad in me Fire exquisite looking feature, meager. And if anyone tries to Put out these flames our chairs we throw 'em, pistol smoke, then BLAST At last, you know who to hand the cash, the brotha with the black hoodie Brotha AR fatigued, should he, n***a play post rhyme Time me, 70 worst as we burst out in 84 contact go p**y And we out, G [PMD] I'm sittin' in the crib, wonderin' where a sunset's at (Ha, Ha, Ha...) I'm crosstown in the zone with my hand on the gat Yeah, I got this. That's why they call me Swiss Smith, no bullsh** Strictly biz, not havin' it It's too many rap hits for n***as to be checkin' me, I'm wreckin', see Zone 7 on the track with PMD Up after hours, gunnin' n***as down at the watchtower Deep like Malcolm, deadly like gun powder Sat back strapped, while brothas try to attack Time to react, 'cause the Hit Squad ain't havin' that [vocal sample] Hit Squad in the house, Parrish Smith representin' (Weak ideas irritate my ears) Check check it out, check check it out (Weak ideas irritate my ears) (Is this the best that you can make?) (Weak ideas irritate my ears) [Roland Harris] My n***as making triple figures and we out to bring terror in all our pictures I'm always lifted when I enter the 7-digit, I'm blistered I grab beats and break bottles and widely stick it I pull out brains and sockets and examine it, frizziness and wickedness Roland Harris' and his device is like a rifle, it's crazy vital (Yoooooooowwwwwww!) [PMD] Back from the darkness, 'bout to spark this microphone n***as tryin' to reach me but no one's home I'm not that same n***a that bust that jam, that Gold Digger I'm in the zone, looking at the real picture Strike three, K'in' n***as like a pro pitcher So take a look at daddy, 'cause I'm representin' From Brentwood, Long Island, Brooklyn to San Quentin n***as trippin', bitin' my business formats and techniques like rabies Juggle these, what, nuts, hard to fade, see Nuff respect to Russell Simmons, peace from PMD I'm out like Arsenio, that n***a's swayze [Lavell] I flip for those who lost their mind, must've crossed the line And saw the other side and tried to slap some rastas comin' to find a ride Normals dressed in jackets frontin' like it's warm. It's not It's hot. You'll sizzle internally rot, you stinkin' blood clot These rugged styles I flip a while And if I step into a different schizophrenic ego see those bodies file Body bags fill up, I k** crews and I abuse you Connivers and labbers I stick you with the Phillips screw Driver, why the violence trap, so I snap Hurl and unfurl with violence, fall out like hair on steroids When I'm p-noid, Like PS it's void I'm-a disperse a verse that's planted to b**h 'cause that's the sh** that makes my squad hit [vocal sample] (Weak ideas irritate my ears) (Weak ideas irritate my ears) (Is this the best that you can make?) (Weak ideas irritate my ears) [PMD] Hit Squad Zone 7 n***as stay jeal' Hit Squad Peace Rockafella