Othorized F.A.M. - Too Ill (Remix) lyrics

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Othorized F.A.M. - Too Ill (Remix) lyrics

(feat. King Just, Leatha Face, Polite, Profes) [Chorus] [Cappadonna] "Too Ill, I represent Park Hill" [Streetlife] "k**ah Hill District" [Inspectah Deck] "k**ah k**ah Hill" [Polite] Yo where I come from, you coward n***as are scared to come Where my dogs blast guns that'll leave yo' a** numb Live n***as move silent, come recognize 'em Yo, you don't bust, yo toss 'em off the Verrazano, n***a f** 'em Stakes is higher, never trust a f**in liar Send him to his moms tied up in barbed wire You f**in ba*tard, everything we spit is hazard Master this rap sh**, another k**ah Hill cla**ic Nuclear weapon, come on, we gotta hear the recipe Hit you with the same slug that k**ed Kennedy We do this for the Hell of it and my wolves ain't smellin it k**ah Hill n***a, all that bullsh**'s irrellevant [Profes] k**ah Hill smacks flames out you, speak fire And deep fry you if you want beef like Meyers Smash you like car tires, shoes stars buyers Playin us close, shouldn't have jumped off the wires Y'all rappers is a bunch of f*ggots, tellin war stories If you're a real live warrior for two full moon halice Creap through like Wallace, you ain't the wildest Son you're feminine like hair stylists Staten Island, slugs tear through ya palace Packed guns have you in Wonderland like Alice Any n***a step to Profes get embarrased My wolves let 'em have it, Lounge Lo mackin his carriage [Chorus x4] [Lounge Mode] Yo, you fake f**s duckin the ratchet, we see the big hole That cannon ball type, let's fight to make ya wig blow Though Wiggs knows I'm still Loungin at the Ooh One crew, Baby Vern, Clocka Dot and Boy Blue But still, I'm Too Ill I represent Park Hill Swear them n***as like to spark but in the dark they k** It's on, you know the style, word bond, you know we wild Perform on the song, I brought along some extra arms It be the work of the slang spit with WP And Cream Team, the O.T.F. is in me The elevator shaft BlackOut! Leatha Face take the Mac out Polite get 'em, L.G.P. count the stack out We bounce out the back door and smack son Clap him with the four, make sure you push back dunn Cuz where I'm from my n***as don't play And by the way my n***as won't say Who spit ten in the gun blaze [King Just] Eh-yo I came from the place with perfect MC's The best weed rollers when it came to the trees The baddest hustlers to the worst car thieves When delf breathed first, jumped out, the wrong keys Since the Paris Crew and Avenue had me I was rappin in beast, had my name in the streets k**ah Hill-a, was all in Park Villa If we didn't stay in town and you wasn't down n***a How you figure they gon' make a Hill track And don't put K.J. back on the map? He's back! It's gon' take a nation to hold us Just as highly to score 10304 and King Just [Leatha Face] We ain't came from under the stairs, when facin peers It's a rare scene similar to the bloody version of Shakespeare Trap snakes in a snare, precussion flares My function here is the discuss to strength, don't talk Spray sidewalks, yap him, cut his hair Why your jaws higher than the law? Ya force spit by the scorpion's Tai Scorched ya flame torch, train of thought blazed off Mock waterized, FAM Othorized, flame off the side Die by the scorpion's eyes Pull the five, acquire the metal, get side of logic We deposit flame generators, from Clifton Projects Heart of darkness, frame twisted in the figure eight position Engrave an incision on ya face big as the state of Michigan [Chorus x5] [Chorus x4: Cappa only]