Face Down

[Intro]

Yo FUCK THAT word up man! (Word to mother yo)

Who you runnin wit? (AFFICIAL NAST!)

Fuck that, who you runnin wit? (AFFICIAL NAST!)

[Fredro Starr]

Yo

I'm goin straight for your head to leave you headless

Eyes of redness, I spray rap cats, to burn the lead tips

Point blank range, I take aim, blow your brain out the frame

Eight shots'll touch ya, spit ya physical structure

Motherfucker this is lyrical destruction

Path of disaster face Nast, comin at cha full blast

and capture grabs your last, breath like the asthma

Couldn't care less, you approachin near death

My hollow tips, rip into your vest politic, with the fearless

The devil himself, a rebel in himself

trapped in America, assassinate your character, slaughter ya

Twenty more holes, in your Nautica, FUCK ALL OF YA!

What?! Bringin MC's, YEAH, callin ya

Livin like a nigga with six months to live

On the edge of life, wouldn't think twice, to make a SACRIFICE

Do a heist, ya niggaz ain't true to life, my whole crew is

trife!

So bring your wildest nigga reppin for your team

Tear his ass to his spleen, this is Suicide Queens

Where gats bust, cutthroat, cross collateral

Gat'll shatter you, feel the pain, it's unimaginable

Self shit, straight from the hood, the dirty black shit

Rap shit, get your back ripped, plus the gat spit

Load it and cock it bag, on thirty-two tracks

Murder you in raps, let my wild dogs bust the CATS!

Styles leave the best dead, I stay breast-fed

And when I die, be handcuffed, to my deathbed

{*scratched "face down on the pavement" -> LL Cool

J*}

[Sticky Fingaz]

Sticky Fingaz sneak up, when you least expect it

I never fuck pussy that's yeast infected

Fuck a brain fry, make me think irrational

If I even think you schemin, YOU KNOW I'M BLASTIN YOU

I'm too raw; what is you - out you gourd?

I cut through any challenger, top notch or amateur

You'd rather be in the projects butt-ass with a hundred G's cash

and no gun, than to fuck with Sticky, Fredro 'n Son

You lookin at one desperate nigga, you shouldn't mess with

I had a doctor scared to remove a bullet from yo' intestine

'Member when I tested, this nigga manhood

to see if he was a true nigga, so I pulled out my gun

Gave some dramatic ass speech then, pulled the trigger

{*CLICK*} Ha hah! Barrel empty, joke on you Jack

He cold pissed his pants, blew his cover, he a New Jack

You know where I'm comin from, most my niggaz pump 'n jump

And when it's time to dump and run, I never jump the gun

or get cold feet, I hold heat

Y'a niggaz don't know me; in six hours I made up four years

Got high shit for your ears;

sorry somethin that I never felt yo, fingertips made of Velcro

You talkin shit like it's a little game

That's now how we get down - 'beef' is my middle name

So don't die over nonsense, I ain't got no conscience

Come out your face you gettin shot

Everything I'm spittin hot - I need fame without the bread

like I need a hole in the head

Add insult to injury, you can't fuck with me

Guess that's not your cup of tea - I'm every star I meet

If you are what you eat, fuck the rookies, rejects

plainclothes and detect's

I had a hard life, grew up too quick

But kept it tight with my true click, startin a new flip

Fuck you frontin for? I seen your bag

with your tail between your leg

Afficial Nast in the house that mean you DEAD!

{*scratched "face down on the pavement" -> LL Cool

J*}

[Sonsee]

You takin a RIDE, in the ambulance, you catch mad damages

Cock the hammer shit, leave you Los(t) like Angeles

You ain't brick, or stucco, or paper machete

Whatever you got, get taken away, YOU'RE BAKIN TODAY

Trust that, it's time to crush cats, when I bust raps

I rush tracks, and oft' act, BUCKWILD!

Army comin through here nigga, TRUCK STYLE!

FUCK YOU! FUCK THE JUDGE! FUCK TRIAL!

I'm givin niggaz shattered egos, I keep foes

or a pet bet they small threat, MAKE 'EM EAT THOSE!

Deep goes my depth, sleep hoes get wet

If that ain't enough, we come through and hose your shit

Hit you with the FIREWORKS, you see the stars BANGIN

I really BANG YOU, and prepare you for God's ANGELS

It's not on humble, but some shit you can't come through

Nigga try to blow he gotta go, and now you know

Experience, from the furious, eeriest

Dead serious, hysterias, fillin ya, interior

with nervousness, for your services

WE CUTTIN OFF YOUR CIRCULATION AND DEADEN YA PURPOSES!

We them niggaz you can't FUCK with, rain or shine

All mics I slain yo' kind, changed the mind

of those thinkin of playin theyrself, NEXT

is ETCHED, in stone, you motherfuckers gettin BLOWN!