Bullies - Solomon Childs, Cappadonna

«You fucked me?»

«I did not!»

«Yeah you did.

You went behind my back, you cut me, you fucked me.»

«Me?

Nah.

never!

What the hell.

maybe you’re right

Maybe I did betray you a little bit»

Time to ride out… yeah…

All the way ride out…

You can be the biggest bully you want

You can think you as hard as you is

But there ain’t nothing in this world

To convince, you snitching, who you claim you is

Mr. Boulevard, see Murda Mob Gang

West Brighton murder capital, non identical

Wild like Hiroshima, with a bomb, taped to my gut

In a terminal, project guillotine, fired like Heat from the beam’ll

Scorch ya bitch ass like the oil, from the prontono plants

Shit I became a long way since '74 suicide watch

Millennium mixtape, alpha and omega

On the block pushing diesel and the crack together

Momma could feed the general, crying over papa’s war letters

Old timers look at my soul, say that it’ll raise the hurricane

Gun hostler very wing, only time you smell the powder burning

Is when the ratchet empty, either you with me or against me

Fuck rap, this for them 25 to lifers

Added to hot pot cookers, produced by the madness

Spit enough ammo to conjugate a death list

Lines of torture, M.C.'s

Like being tied down, guzzling goat piss

Made movie, it should of been box office smashes

Equipped with sparks, like books of matches

Officer and a Gentleman Part 2

In soldier colors, red fatigue

Wipe the blade clean, with black tee’s

I’m here for whoever holding the crown

Understand me, I pop something

I’m so glorified, and don’t mistake me for G-Unit

But them semi’s I spit at your unit

I blow the head off your Voltron, fuck ya average song

I set flame to your wiz, put the game all over your kids

Know what it is, Verrazano Bridge music

The third coming of the lost and found

Ever since the fall of the Roman Empire

Me and Solomon Childs been holding it down

Beat the bully out ya’ll, you a thug in a gown

You ain’t shooting at me, you put your slugs in the ground

And I’m all the way hot with it, and you not with it

You got fitted for your lifestyle, you the last decade shit

We right now, Don Diggler, my bear’s in the background

Staten Island for real, ya’ll fake niggas think ya’ll real

Kick doors down, take my reel

Greedy ass niggas, sittin' on Benz wheels, I put snakes on 'em

High stakes on 'em (crack crates on 'em)

Bully start running when the planet of the apes on 'em