Pat Viala - Cla**ic Verses (Drop it Heavy and Fantastic 4) lyrics

* [Verse One] -- from the Show & A.G. "Full Scale EP" * [Verse Two] -- from the DJ Clue CD "The Professional" [Verse One] Yo, my squad is honored like Elijah Muhammad But I'm God-retarded, ain't no righteousness in this heart of violence Hard as diamond but I'm in the ruff, listen up If you ever see me with the Feds you can bet it's in the cuffs Ain't no snitch in us, b**h in us Unofficial-ness, everything we outside you wish you was Official thugs in the drug profession Drug connections, drug addictions Still seein the judge for drug possession The four-D's, all these is more reas' To either get big, or leave and let live We the best there is T.S., ain't nobody else We probably Dove, cause we all way on top of the shelf I'm lockin your wealth with the master keys, freeze Don't try to breeze, or I'mma squeeze and blast the back of your knees Just pa** the cheese, please don't test the toaster My tech'll roast ya body faster than Ferrari's Testarossa You're gettin closer to d**h, Reaper's got a hold on your breath You goin straight to hell as you sell your soul for your flesh You was posin a threat, now you froze in the bed Minute ago, you was poppin sh**, holdin ya dick Now what's the problem, you ain't nuttin like you said on your album I thought you was wildin bustin your guns and runnin the island You was't violent, you was silent tryin to get college credits How pathetic, did it to get out of the calisthenics I'm +Dianetics+ combined with lyrics My matureness is my insurance k** my appearance, I'm a shinin spirit You gotta fear it, cause every last gem is poison You gotta cheer it, you can't win you better join em I'm head-annointin n***as like the Holy Gospel I'm the only vato loco to smoke you with fire-blowin nostrils Watch for the toast, when you see it, you better draw yours Warlords, callin The Giant, it's all yours [Verse Two] f** all y'all non-believers; I roll with God, the Squad and T.S Out with the B.S. we platinum, they even doubted Jesus n***as is 85%, I'm 400 solid Brain-bolic with knowledge, co*k-diesel scholars Holdin it down, walkin around with gold by the pound Frozen and drowned with diamond boulders all in the crown Talk of the town, soakin you down wit toast 'til you drown Ghost you and pound your corpse with a force that'll open the ground Save the jokes for the clowns, I'm on the serious tip You keep playin.. and I get furious quick And now I take you for a walk through the ghetto Either spark your metal or get outlined in chalk by the devil I rep the borough that mothered this rap sh**, I used to clap sh** Now I just lay back and mack on some mack sh** I used to have to pack a mac in back of the Ac[ura] Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack It's like that, but don't think I won't counter act My n***as is strapped and quick to lay a b**h on his back I'm swift with the mac, quicker than Kung Fu With the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose