Feel It

[Swan]

Yo, take a walk through the Terror Dome

Instead of duckin little niggas, gettin live when they hear the chrome

Where them dollars at? What, nigga holla back

Is what they screamin, ice gleamin on Jumanji plaque

Here to rat-a-tat-tat, on a regular

Money exchangin, rearrangin on a cellular

We do it up in a Benz or a hoop dog

Smokin black, listenin to Snoop Dogg

We them troops dog, that be runnin up, summin up ya money block

Smack you all up in your funny top, guns cock

In the drop top, headed to the chop shop

Gettin ten grand, cuz the handle on your lock pop

[Chorus 2X]

Throw ya hands in the sky if you feelin this

You can roll a bag of la if you feelin it

You can bump it in ya ride, you can park up on the side

You can bump to the vibe, if you feelin this

[Buckshot]

I'm high when I know I'm sweatin, plus I'm gettin

Ready to set like Nino Brown at the wedding

You a New Jack, this ain't a City

What a pity, I fuck around, I have to give you fifty

And if I take 49, and you're left with one

See the one that jammed in ya ear, made ya deaf son

Take ya breath son, nah, here's the oxygen

Fuck it, bring the muthafuckin glocks again

Throw ya hands up, when I spit six to tear ya man up

Now you can't stand up, fucked your whole plan up

Every time the gun jam up, the back slam up

Upside ya head, give me my respects

[Tone Cappone]

Yo, there's nowhere to run, there's nowhere to hide

Don't no one survive, the toast on my side, we both gonna die

A nigga and his man tried to front, they both in disguise

See before Jesus, the only man chosen was I

And you can a dream or a nightmare, and I'm right there

Standin over there, wit a bead and a mic there

Puff there, Hype there, Russell there, Mike there

All them niggas watch me embarrass you, right there

From Brook-Nam to Queens, all the way to Yonkers and back

Anywhere you go, you see the knights only attack

Niggas flipped it on they back, enormin this tracks

We bombin these cats, like U.S. was bombin Iraq

[Chorus 2X]

[Sweet Mellodye]

A real hard head makes a real soft ass

I thought I told these muthafuckas they ain't in our class

Quick fast, I strip them from they stripes, snatch they thug patch

Fuck that, I make 'em run and get they wife and come back

You dumb black, bum raps is what y'all got

It'll take a forest fire, just to make ya hot

And I ain't got no time for them weak ass rhymes

And then, when you spittin it's three and four at a time

Come on now, I hate to be rude and shit

But it's only a chosen few that can do this shit

I thought you knew this shit, and ran through this shit

But you still sample shit, and gettin sued and shit

You know you makin me sick, like the flu and shit

And stage ya monkey ass, leave the zoo and shit

You see I rule wit shit, wit any bit I spit

That rap crack, you phat, ain't all that and shit

[Chorus 2X]