Sean Price - The Warning lyrics

[Verse 1: Eddie B] Stay calm, don't make me spit the napalm Half A rap b**h, I can make bombs I can make moms come inside they're panties I'm breaking up your family like little orphan Annie You rappers hardly manly, that's because you b**h me I be kicking dope, verses sharper than a switchblade I twist haze but I mix it with the twizzle I'm in your b**h and you, dummy, you just that sequel Yella, yella, mraah, I love my people I'm on point like uncle Najib with the desert eagle Every P is lethal and everyone should know that I rock a fresh Yankee with the berries in this throwback You so whack, hold that in your cranium My shot like the lights hanging over a giant stadium You rappers shouldn't play with him, he burns cats alive Like a Chinese chef, a quarter after five, peace! [Verse 2: Sean Price] Truly concrete, I spit street strictly Don't overstay the stay, I keep heat with me Whenever I lay my hat, it's good Whenever I spray my gut you know that I'm good Mandela, Sean is my covering Everything I spit, shotgun with the rubber grid Summer sh**, pad polo shorts, lengthy blue ones on Pull the White T fan mail, f** you doing, Sean? You right, f** clothes, f** flows Diabolic, the sh** that fighting was probably candy to pop Hits you in them bands and you're shot Rubber to the dark side, you make Anakin stop Planning to pop, n***as ain't planning to pop Dismantle your knot then I manhandle your guap Keep it loot across the board, don't make plans with the cops These n***as will have your status be as hot as a cop [Verse 3: Termanology] My b**h a cannibal 'cause she eat dick 36 chambers meets Mafia 36 Three fifths of these rappers is fake The other portion is late 'Ology, Harry Ford in the place, we make hip hop That'll leave a scar in the game A box cutter, ice cutter, chainsaw on the blade I sell d**, bring my whole block in the game Whole club full of leakers tryna plot on your chain I rock j**els, both hands is King Tut Do you cast 30 even though I'm clean cut Jean pack the stuff and ready to pack the scene's up 30 countries in two years, I gotta keep up Speak up when you talk to me, son, I ree up with bosses So I ain't f**ing with you, impostors Got a Macbook that's filled up with mad hoes Damn hooker's bu*t, man, you know how it goes We treat 'em cold