Single / Track

John Blaze

Fat Joe•Official Audio (YouTube API)

Lyrics

My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence

Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials

Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal

He'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil

Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers

In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer

In my own class, operation return, they tried to say

I was incompetent, not able to learn

The tables turned now, got my own label I earned

Like that nigga said in Dead Presidents, "Money to burn"

Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet

Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes

Niggas is this and that, I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest

Between Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish

So many thugs vanish, unite the system

To fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison

My crew puff lye, anyone testin' Pun must die

Just give me one try, now you know you done fucked up, right?

Ha, you ain't got no wins in mi casa

¿Qué te pasa? You ain't even in my clasa

I hate a actor that plays a rapper

I'm Terror Squad beta kappa, everybody's favorite rapper

Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal

The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral

I reign subliminal inside your visual

Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical

I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddy do, no kidding you

Even if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-shit on you

Soon as I chitter chatter, your shit'll shatter

I'm the kid out of the Bronx that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter

I'm even better than before, iller metaphors

Killers bet it all on Pun 'cause one verse dead 'em all

John Blaze

John Bl-Blaze

John Blaze

Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed

Ayo, my attitude is subject to change

I mess around and spit 12 at the driver's side door of your Range

Six hit you, the other six up in your dame

Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains

So take heed that not only can I flow, I can aim

'Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign

Better believe that whenever I see y'all, I'ma test you

Only 'cause I know that faggots respect pressure

Hardcore, like shit you get kicked out the yard for

Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up

You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up

Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show

Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable

Y'all hot dog niggas get Nathan's

Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'

My son cool out (what), don't beef, yo, throw the tool out

Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make 'em move out

Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash

Did some dirt for some work, caught a gash

The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear

Strike me out, God, stackin' up joints, rack 'em like Footlocker

This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent here to Crenshaw

Hold my words stronger than a Benz store

Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness

Dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness

Lex imagination large, gold cards

Beat the bogus squad brains that connect, put on the Older God

Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar

Feelin' the rich, work for every dollar, don't snitch

That's why broke niggas who got heart, God, sign 'em up

Start the wind up, we John Blazin', don up in the line up

Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed

It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us

'Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers

Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun

Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed don

I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts

For fuckin' with my funds on the first

And go to church like a mobster

Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners

Lucas with the cartridge, 20 shot

Run up on any block, disrespect any cop

Used to run many spots, now I own shops

Gore-Tex with the lock, five sixty-four bills a pop

I'm hot, who wanna get burned?

I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn

You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day

Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed

Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed

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John Blaze

Lyrics