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Fes Taylor
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Warriors Pt. 2
[Fes Taylor] Two 4, Two 4-ty Warriorz up in this bitch Screaming the warrior, the kid snitch, plus never get shit My brother rock, waiting to pop off Wolves that'll eat you with hot sauce, he sit with the cops off Point out pictures and got boss Sent up the river, now he fronting like Secaucus popped on Pop corn rappers and pop sauce Sound like I could do a better job, son, putting my pops on I bang out with niggas that was known in the street So I don't fear a rapper on the microphone, when he speak And hope a nigga home when I creep, nigga talk shit Shoot him in the mouth, have him holding his beak Two 4 War, is holding the streets, shake up the industry, son We rock the puss like when soda released While diamonds in the rough play tough, the champ is here Dare you to say something back, I trample your career Yo, I'm tired of niggas biting my shit, just let me write it for you Nigga I'm so hot, my darts like lighter fluid You might of blew it though, facing the kid We can do it on Kayslay, you afraid I'mma win I put, five grand, me and any rapper that's out Guaranteed, I shut 'em down, what the yapping about I have twenty Park Hill niggas, crashing his house Face scraping the concrete, draggin 'em out Listen, I ride low in a hooptie, til Gil came through in a porsche And scooped me, so I'm doing me Plus I'm still nice with the two-piece, but it's like Shots go off, when I write on the loose leaf And I take it like you murdered my friends, uh-huh So at shows we throwing chairs like, Bang 'Em Smurf and 'em Coward, you running with punks, you ain't bout it My niggas live, everyone of them dump, bitch Yeah, Two 4-ty Warriorz, alright, ok Why I'm so angry? These faggot niggas try to bang me On Harrison Ave., I'm blasting a mag Yo, the judge offered 25, I still didn't break All these niggas acting like they real, really they fake You niggas is hoes, you fronting on the video shows Six shut you up, have your body sinking below So, fuck a bitch, I'm just try'nna fuck a bitch Got a couple chicks suck a dick til the nutter split then your throat slit Taylor wrote this, same way I'm on them posters Gun and hostlers, send slugs with no postage Smomke a roach clip when I'm stressed, approach a click With the vest, and the Smith and Wess', lifting your dress You bitch ass niggas, I'm like, Billy the Kid in the west We the cash niggas, confess the Milli kids is the best We the mud kids, look what a slug did, we crooked, we done biz I triple, we run this, you pump bitch I pump with niggas who pump in it With the shotgun, dumping your whip, I'm crushing the strip Peace to my young wolves, somebody die, if a gun pull Under the full moon, aim at your stove In a hooptie down low, and I painted it though Lights go out, after I flame at your bro And I'm still in the projects, beefing with police It's no peace, cops beat case like Cocheese Yeah the original muthafuckin' Warriorz Before M.O.P., before G-Unit, we was the four building Getting this paper muthafucka...
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