Shot Me Down

[Intro: Lounge Lo]

That's right.. I see you

Aiyo, Wigs, you see him? Let's go him

[Lounge Lo]

Aiyo, loose goose, run with a deuce and set a truce

With a .38, damn Billy, why you had to crack the milli and skate

Damn, pardon a nigga, cuz I had to put the 15, AR on the nigga

My gun is a talker, and me? A Shaolin New Yorker

Fuck that, you can bring your balls and meet on the court

My girl taller, and all about the streets and the fork

And she know about the heat when it scorch, she got my back

And she always losed out, when peepin' the horse

And the guns are going off on the Staten, of course

Ask the police, how we get clapped on the cross

Of course, Park Hill hillbillies, Wild West

Jungle Nilz, Now Born, and them Stapletown dust phillies

We load the guns and plus we ready

And for a out of town nigga, that's a plus for heavy

[Molly-Q]

Yo, starving like Marvin Hagler, marvelous

Fabulous, five mic poetist, golden grips

Holding hits, writing what a wish, like a birthday gift

Blowing out candles, gamble, the rap Mickey Mantle

Money taker scrambler, smoking weed by the handful

Twelve bar vandals, open mics is what I ran through

Crack sneakers, wife beaters, benz white juice

See the leaning lay back, twisting reefer

Puzzle missing pieces, hustle like Jesus

Rap bible books, and preachers gotta bust they guns up in the breachers

[Shawn Wigs]

Yo, this is Staten Island, you can get crashed like stocks

Smack with a green machine, or some classic Reeboks

Rock a fox coat, keep a big heater in the lining

We in a big lead, O, we slid right past the minors

We major, rainbow Skittles, pack flavor

We spit and spaz the fuck out, what up neighbor?

It's the kings of cliche, muscled your DJ

Slid through the blocks, slapped the ones all on your PJ's

Bite your mic, tore the sole off your sneakers

Staten Island Stand Up, bust guns in the bleachers

[Crunch Lo]

So Park Hill, West Brighton, New Brighton, the Harbor

Stapleton, Port Town, forty cals and pounds

We on the mound like a pitcher, dreams of getting richer

Reach for the stars and found the big dipper

My niggas stand up, front and get blammed up

Ran a hundred deep in the club, we man up

The gemstar spitter, I've never been a quitter

I run real close and throw the toast to your liver

A heatwave, or I give you a close shave

At close range, muthafucka, playing no games

We keep the metal spraying, more than Olympics

Our thoroughness is vengeance, we going hard

From four quarters, relentless

We been this live, nigga, no monkey jive

We fuck queen bees and conquer the bee hive

The modern day Hannibals, thugged out animals

Straight from the zoo, clear the whole block with the tech 22