Fes Taylor - Lunch Meat lyrics

[Chorus 2X: Fes Taylor] n***as is lunch meat, I let the wolves get em My doves holla full moon now sick em We take the collar off the bull dog sick em Wanna problem with beef then bull yard sick em [Lot-a-Nerv] n***a you want it I got it, Shine playa shine How bright like the light that flash from the forty-five I'ma ride til the cops are screaming at homicide k**a Hill Staten Island is where I f**ing reside Where the wild wolves sick you and the weak n***as die And you see a full moon when even the sunshine I'm alive and I'm breathing, I'm moving in on my prey I don't care if you a rhino I'm knawing down on a leg When you dead see we see you like lunch meat Thank the Lord Biggie Smalls I know the meaning of beef Lesson One, It ain't beef if he ain't rolling with heat Then you pop a n***a top let's hope he thinking it's sweet Like a pepper when it's hot, Then I catch ya And leave you on a stretcher while homeboy leaking a lot of ketchup n***a who wanna grind, n***a who getting shine Top Guns, Lot-a-Nerv, I told ya this year is mine [Chorus] [Fes Taylor] Raised by the wolves, Young Mowgli It's two-four like the number of Kobe, The one and only Tony Reed-Van on my birth certificate The first to finish in a ten mile race Like life a marathon, I just carry on Like I need Jesus in my life, Maybe Farrakhan Become the new Don I'm good gwap you n***as is coupons White golds no silver I don't do no bronze Cool like the Fonz, Two thumbs up If it's beef we like D-Block, Two guns up What, Keep your mouth shut, I got a South s*ut That'll set your a** up while up on the couch nut The f** n***as wanna do, I already warned you Run up on your b**h a**, Take your corner too I curse a lot, n***as hear my verse and pop So when they try to play my sh** yo they music stop You hit the turn table one more time Like Bilal in House Party, n***a come outside I ride, Glide on twenty-six inch wheels Bad b**h with some six inch heels That's how I feel, f** it, I do it like it's nothing Cause I was born to be a super star emcee, Momma look at me Listen, Scrooge McWolf, I do the back stroke Swimming in my money, A handful will get your a** smoked [Chorus]