F**k Tony Montana (feat. Sick Jacken of Psycho Realm & B-Real of Cypress Hill)
La Coka Nostra
Hip-Hop/Rap
6 645
Kredity
PERFORMING ARTISTS
La Coka Nostra
Performer
Sick Jacken
Performer
B-Real
Performer
Slaine
Performer
ILL BILL
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Erik Schrody
Songwriter
William Braunstein
Songwriter
George Carroll
Songwriter
Leor Dimant
Songwriter
Daniel O'Connor
Songwriter
Louise Freese
Songwriter
Jack Gonzalez
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
DJ Lethal
Producer
Texty
Fuck Tony Montana, we kill kids
If he did, he’d still be alive
Al Pacino fucked up twice
I’m a vet but Benny Blanco ain’t taking my life
I'm a end up on the beach with my seed in my wife
One last hustle, last hoorah, move this last bundle
I caught bodies out here, homie, I can’t fumble
Most of my felonies are legendary
That’s why I put most of my enemies in cemeteries
I seen visions from beyond the grave, burning in Hell
Screaming in pain to God, begging to be saved
This is purgatory, another first-degree murder story
They took my kindness for a weakness and turned it on me
That’s when I blacked out, pulling triggers like I was cracked out
Eyes bugging out my head, tapped out
Schized the fuck out, Lōc’ed out, coked out
Shottied up, left you soaked the fuck up and smoked out
Fuck a motherless child from a penniless home
I’m a heartless lion with an iron jawbone
I’m no Al Capone or Corleone
But I’ve been known to put a hit out on the microphone
Fuck your time zone, fuck your area code
I’ll detonate my payload and watch it explode
It’s a gangster boogie, it’s a soldier’s hustle
Little bank take big bank if it got muscle
Drugs, money, sex, revolution is next
This ain’t strong-armed robbery, we got a small armory
Fuck cracks and Glocks, we shooting back at the cops
Deep undercover like we running black ops
Battle cry singing, you’re on my dick swinging
Ain’t nobody fucking with this drama I’m bringing
Some men are king and some men are peasants
So come kiss the ring, bow down to the king
I’m from the double S till I drop
I rep the bubble vest with a Glock
My trouble stem from all the death on my block
The meth and the rock got zombie armies set to pop
Jail cells are funeral plots, they’re stressed in a box
Sick Side harmony is like Jews and Arabs in bombing sprees
My hood’s the Gaza Strip, this raw shit’s a part of me
A cult following martyrs me, street life is haunting me constantly
Thinking cops with the friction are trying to slaughter me
A killer’s lottery is roulette, not on himself
That’s when Russians test the Mexicans and see who’s next
Hit the block and you’ll catch two TECs
Nevermind where you’re from, we’re reacting cause we preview death
Drive-by murder, hit with a live burner
You try to shake a barrel to buck, it’s not heard of
You are not Everlasting, get Slaine by ILL Bill
One Lethal dose of Pain and get Left on the Hill
There’s so many ways to hustle man, I got em all locked
If you think about touching mine, the hammer’s on cock
Got my mind on my money and my money on my mind
We never stop the hustle, get the paper and fly
That’s life in the city, shit is gritty, no it ain’t pretty
But we on the grind, homie, if you ain’t rolling with me
When you against you just an enemy that might be a cancer
So then we’re searching to remove your ass, ain’t taking no chances
In the darkest places ones with the unknown faces
Cause fire places in hearts of the rebels you hating
You better take a look and recognize the monster created
I think we gotta choke em, we just elevated to hatred
What you know about survival? Ever struggle to eat?
What you know about the poverty? Ever live on the street?
When there ain’t no opportunity trying to make ends meet
Then you become what they fear but they fear the elite
I’m a DMS soldier, EMS hold ya
Now you’re knocked the fuck out, you need a rest, I told ya
Homie, you don’t walk with a lien on my shoulder
Scheming on your dollar, fiending for a boulder
Blue-eyed devil spilling semen on your culture
Who am I to revel, what I’m being is a vulture
On both coasts with the toast to roast you
My soul’s so close to approaching hopeless
Flow's so dope, I do coke to focus
The angel with the dust so the smokers smoke it
You loathe how I roll, it was so ferocious
I know this, I always had a prose composure
Let the curtains close cause your shows is over
They’ll be no more of you posers posing
It’s raw and uncut, with a weapon to shoot
I’m the truth for the youth when I step in the booth
What?!
Written by: Daniel O'Connor, Erik Schrody, George Carroll, Jack Gonzalez, Leor Dimant, Louise Freese, William Braunstein
![Poslechněte si Dirty New Yorker (feat. Havoc & Prodigy) [From H.N.I.C. Part 2 Sessions] od interpreta Mobb Deep](/mkimage/image/thumb/Music112/v4/fa/2b/9c/fa2b9c66-f249-a9cd-3bef-804f28174410/859700676738.png/375x375cc.webp "Poslechněte si Dirty New Yorker (feat. Havoc & Prodigy) [From H.N.I.C. Part 2 Sessions] od interpreta Mobb Deep")
