5 Fingers of Death (feat. D.I.T.C.)

Where are you?

Hey, there you are

How does it feel to know you only have a few more seconds left to live?

Check it

I stay jeweled up, pockets swelled up from banks I held up

Plenty bitch-ass ****, Big L stuck

I never catch cold feet when I hold heat

We roll deep, Triple Fat dogs in their old jeep

I catch a fag three o'clock in the morn

On the block all alone and put a Glock to his dome

Tell him "Give it up quick, you nitwit, don't try to get slick

Or Ima let this four-fifth spit and leave your shit split"

Grip, it ain't nothing decent about me

A true thug for real, you can ask the precinct about me

A rap junkie, don't try to play me like some flunky

Jewels be chunky, pockets lumpy, attitude grumpy

Mad **** be fronting a lot

Popping mad shit, trying to be something they not

Your faggot ass better stick to dancing, don't even look at me

I might break your jaw just for glancing, that's right

In '97, Harlem kids is blowing

And we don't trip, we'll let a bitch starve till her ribs are showing

Lord Finesse

It's the divine mastermind, I turn nickels to dimes

The authentic genuine that's out to shine

The cool cat, the true mack, the smooth raps

Chickens be like "Who dat?"

I be doing my thing, kid (True dat)

Forget fronting, I'm beyond that, I roll with brothers ready for combat

All for eye-to-eye contact

With skills, G, yo it's ill, see, for real, B

Ain't no barbeque, **** better stop trying to grill me

Huh, sent that style to the essence

Got **** stressing my style, pull like fluorescence

No question, tough type to clutch mics

No positive uptight, I'm the "I don't give a fuck" type

Expose the facts, you know the haps

We go to laugh astrological, like the signs in the Zodiac

To rap you, out the stack glue, word up

My style's tighter than a fat bitch in a catsuit

Surprise G, it's not wise see to size me

When I operate, it's Smooth Sailing like Ron Isley

Gotta do my thing, word up

Beg ya pardon?

Time to bounce, gotta skate like Tonya Harding

A.G.

Yo I'm the cleverest, top ten terrorist

Chickens ever diss, they become featherless

Hate derelicts, certified gold medalist

You play fly, 'cause I'm the most high, like Everest

Look at all these fakes, musically you imitate the crates

Won't succeed moving at full speed with no breaks

Like Jake, watch me take your entourage

Can't see me, I'm camouflage, and besides I'm God

Mad hard, like the S.A.T., have shorties

Caught up in the mental, watching her bless A.G.

Evidently, you still don't know, because you tempt me

Thought you was the boss when your fat thoughts were empty

Not Fat Joey Crack, but still Jealous One's envy

Who sent me? D.I.T.C., good and plenty

Like the doctor, smoke a Spike Joint and watch "Clockers"

Get rude like Shabba, make moves behind my blockers

Crazy sickness, you want the pure, you'd better pick this

Bitches can't get this, faggots remain dickless

Fat Joe

Before we get started, let's talk about these coward-hearted emcees

That claim to be true O.G.'s and war specialists

Forever busting guns on the circus ship

But when the beef comes, get on the F.O.R. protection list

You know the deal, I come with nothing but the real

Certified pejente, recognize mi gente

Whether East Coast or West Coast, I'll lick 'em all

Strip naked, bitch **** will never get respected

Joey Green, bagging doubles up in Bowling Green

For all my team, packing the nine, for soon as this team is rolling clean

You know the team, never giving a fuck

Playing thick in the cut, get your shit laced up

What the fuck?

Diamond D

Yo, I'm flippin on **** like Dre's and Cracks

My raps react on your cardiac, like a heart attack

Some **** front for stunts who want

Take a puff of the blunt and play a **** like a chump

But I don't play that shit with no chicks

Sucking the next ****'s dick, moving bricks

I'm too slick for you high school dropouts

You got knocked and tried to cop out

Couldn't fight when the kids pulled the mop out

And wails you out, writing home saying "Bail me out"

Little small time, fucked up when you called mines

D Squared, one of the greatest of all time

Yeah, D.I.T.C. representing for the '97 (Alright)

Word life