G.O.D. Pt. III

Some of that 151 Son (yeah some of that bogus)<br>("What you got in the trunk?")<br>Aight, aiyyo Son, yo yo<br>You think that motherfuckin nigga`s out there right now Son?<br>(Word, what he doin out here?)<br>Son we got drama with that nigga<br>Be tryin to fuckin front last week<br>(What, that kid out there? Yo, I seen that nigga earlier knahmsayin?)<br>Nah fuck that, go, go open the window real quick Son<br>Open that fuckin window<br>(You gonna take him from the window nigga?)<br>Yo hold up<br>That, there go, that`s that nigga right there Son?<br>Right next to the basketball court?<br>(Yeah yeah, that`s the one)<br>Oh shit! C`mere c`mere c`mere c`mere, turn the lights out<br>(I got somethin too Son, that`s how we do)<br>Turn the lights out, c`mon through<br>*sounds of clips and an automatic being cocked*<br>(Back up, back up, they lookin)<br>Aiyyo Son, I`ma hit that nigga right now Son<br>Word to mom I`ma hit him out the window Son<br>*Twilight Zone in the background*<br>(Yo you BUGGIN Son!)<br>Heh nhah chill `Zo, fuck that<br>I`ma hit that nigga right out the motherfuckin window<br>(Ga head Son, go head man!)<br>Hold up (You want somebody go bust him!)<br>Nah fuck that I`ma hit this nigga out the window Son<br>(Ga head man!)<br>Shit shit shit don`t blow it up, duck down<br>(Yo let me do it man, let me do it, go head)<br>*two shots, eighteen shots, seven shots*<br>Yeah yeah yeah, yeah nigga, yeah!<br>Yeah! (gimme gimme gimme gimme)<br>*two shots*<br>Fucker! (What?)<br><br>[Chorus: repeat 2X]<br>(Yo it`s the) G.O.D., Father Pt. III<br>QBC, sip lime Bacardi<br>Heavy on the wrist, cube-link, my ice ring<br>Drama we bring, yeah/yo that`s a small thing<br><br>[Verse One: Prodigy]<br>Awright now, pay attention to the crime rhyme Houdini P<br>Keepin you niggaz in perspective<br>Mobb, representative, call me the specialist<br>Professional, professor at this rap science<br>Up in the labratory, here`s why your small rhyme bore me<br>Store bought rap ain`t shit, my category<br>is that of an insane who strike back (what?)<br>I draw first blood, it`s over with, and that`s that<br>You wanna square off, forsake and slice that cat<br>You get splashed, from back of your head, to ass crack<br>Surgical signs to the end, with iron map<br>Which bring, apocalypse to this game called rap<br>Not a game but quite serious and yo in fact<br>You`ll be runnin for dear life so far you might fall off the map<br>Fuckin with P, you need a gat<br>At least to have the opportunity to bust back<br>First shot the motherfucker pack around world premier<br>Shook individual bound from blind fear<br>Scared to death niggaz fall to they worst fear<br>Horror tales in braille, for vision impaired<br>You lookin for P, well you can find him everywhere<br>In a project near you, I`ll be right there<br>I was brought up and taught to have no fear (now)<br>Live wire niggaz stay behind me in the rear (now)<br>Cowardly hearts, step aside, stand clear (fear)<br>My bloodthirsty niggaz got they eyes on you<br>QBC, lime Bacardia, G.O.D. Father Pt. III<br>On some hashish, to Embassy Suite, crash your party<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>[Verse Two: Havoc]<br>Yeah yo, lime Bacardi, gettin bent, crash the party<br>Handle B-I, bringin it to anybody<br>Physical damage, crowd control handle cannons<br>Hittin you ripped, leave your bloodstream contamin-ed<br>While you actin out of character, we observin<br>Drillin em down so hard, I know we felt you comin at em<br>Hennessee raps float like the Phantom<br>Runnin you up out of the spot in which you standin<br>Never second-guess a cat who hold gat<br>Concealed, but easily revealed and fast<br>Body castin raps to get your back snapped in half<br>and severed, impossible pain beyond measure<br>Sheisty living brought him to his last bread (bread)<br>Life changed around quick to one stead (stead)<br>Face full of fear, conquerin your ice grill (grill)<br>Tragedies, put him to sleep like NyQuil (NyQuil)<br>Givin a overdose of this rap potent<br>Potentially dangerous, fatally left open<br>for the roaches, scavengers, that`s EMS<br>Funeral homes, anticipatin your death<br>That`s the dead truth, check in the morgue, you`ll find proof<br>Enough to make you think and stop before your ship sink<br>to the bottom, night owl leave the mark and spot him<br>You know the routine, face up before I shot him<br><br>[Chorus] - repeat 2X