Vinnie Paz — Scorched Earth

[Verse 1: Vinnie Paz] Flashbang, that’s a photo op My shooters take you out the fucking picture like a Photoshop A thousand knives coming at you, that’s a Sakamoto shot The 93-R machine pistol that’ll Robocop Three round burst mode, blow your fucking fingers off Lights out, black ski mask, and the ringer off Action and reaction, akhi, I don’t even think at all The cuete out of Italy, the ‘caine is out of Singapore Yall know I’m never running out of ammo The yoppa keep spitting like somebody chew tobacco Screwface, ox under the tongue, I’m a wacko Sentence you to death, blood feud, and I’m Draco That’s the sound of the machete chop Beat a motherfucker til his eye end up like Fetty Wap I had motherfuckers going south for the birds Y'all ain’t doing nothing, actions speak louder than words [Interlude: Estee Nack] And my word stay bond son. You know what I'm sayin'? Bond is life and I give my life before my words, y'all feel that? Yo, so listen [Verse 2: Estee Nack] I smoke flavors of shorty listening to La India Works for Rodriguez, stand to settle within Handle beamers, fully automatic Beretta Ninas Arenas, the work is genius, only respect the seniors Señore, smoke oil, sniff it into Pyrex Double the grind ax, dump the beamer, slip into Fylex Strip you suplex, my nigga you guessed it, who protest it True to the Est, it's beautiful, precious Get it moving in Venice to Budapest, I'm moving and flexing The music masses from the prisons to the pazzes Endless, infinite mental, magnetics, molecular measurements True living god in the flesh, no beginning, no ending The Ford is a death deficit Yo, it ain't even a question of whether I'm still in the streets Definite [Verse 3: Jay Royale] I got heathens to make the beef broil Your arms too weak for the recoil Throw you to the wolves and they feast on you I can sick the streets on you, it's only beats you can feed me with Shit get thick, approach your whip with a stick like a Squeegee When you cross paths with trigger bullets, it's rigor mortis The brick's enormous, from long range can flip a walrus Burn shit up like incinerators pushing pen and paper Fuck around and split your chin with a razor It's critical slander, I'm sick with spitting the grammar I can regenerate a limb like (?) Let's switch the agenda, cold and blistering winds in the winter Release the fire and pen at your brain with the Kimber It's target practice for you novice rappers Guaranteed to leave 'em slumped when I dump the automatic Amityville with the mic handling skills Can chew through turnbuckles like George Animal Steele