Jon Murdock - The Young White Lady lyrics

[Verse 1: Ricky Fitz] Call me candy man, cats is candy yams, fold like [?] Pretzels under pressure, I'll test ya, hope you ready, fam Pack and stare, rhyming with these suicide bombers Blasting big guns like Contra, brown bomber Eat n***as' filet mignon-a, Jeffery Dahmer Blowing ganga, pulling llamas, Osama, the monster Beast from the East, son who's off of his leash With guns drawn busting at my enemies Pen will bleed sixteen bars, jailor lifting weights in the yard Kick a freestyle, who's touching the God S-C-I, the arsonist who's ready to die Heads fly when I swing sword like Barry Bonds The negotiator, your team's trash like the Raiders Arsonist like bright days at the beach, the sun it blazed ya Son, I'll take ya, to the place of no return You pray for Heaven, even though you starting to burn [Verse 2: Lex Starwind] Weapon X-ecutioner, sanitation garbage pollutioners get sent to Lucifer My stone cold stare Medusa ya P89 Ruger ya, one up to the P90 You want the beef? Find me, I bet I seem grimy ‘Cause I was raised in the gutta, will blaze with my brother Try to duck the son's rays, run for cover Motherf**er, don't utter a word you can't even speak Used to keep a ox [?], right up in my sheet, n***a Burn bridges I ain't had to cross To get a whip like my first album, the 9/11 raspberry Porsche Cats very soft, call 'em terrycloth World War III is what I see and what I'm ready for Lex Star, the pistol military issue, hit you Send a squad to get you ripped through gristle, bone and Tissue, wish you, would, I wish y'all could n***as never seen the street, I bet you wish y'all hood, n***a [Verse 3: Jon Murdock] Throw my beat break in to shake and debate and I'll slay haters The violent tone, sit on my throne and stole faces Latch the blacksmith mask on, iron maiden Molded by Murdock himself, try and face it F-dation, neck break in the best placement Finger grips in your neck, you can't brace it With screws in your forehead tightened for stability Have to move your whole torso to see you ain't as ill as me Spit the flamethrower to blow ya, the game's over The same soldier with the Range Rover, my game's ultra Peace to Philly Toboggan, speak silly to Goggin No information for him, it's not a problem Don't run from the siren, the situation that I'm in Will make the paramedics come through and perform the Heimlich [Outro: Jon Murdock] Motherf**er, Foundation Sagittarius, basement basin, blazin' Yo, 2004, spitting a bar, what