ONYX

ONYX - Face Down lyrics

Yo Fuck that!

Word to mother yo

Who you runnin' with? AFFICIAL NAST! Fuck that!

Who you runnin' with? AFFICIAL NAST!

[Fredro Starr]

Yo I'm goin' straight for ya head to leave you headless

Eyez are redness I spray rap cats to burn a lack tips

Point like rain I take aim blow ya brain out the frame

Eight shots'll touch ya spit ya physical structure

MUTHAFUCKA this is lyrical destructure!

Path from disaster, face Nast comin' at ya

Full blast, I catch ya fragile ass, breath like ya astma

Couldn't kill less, you approach your near death

My hollow tips, rip a kid that's politic, with da villains

The devil himself, a rebel in himself, trapped in America

Assassinate ya charachter, slaughter ya

Twenty more holes in ya (norica?), FUCK ALL OF YA!

What?! Bringin' MC's, YEAH, callin' ya

Livin' like a nigga with six months to live

On da edge of life, wouldn't think twice, to make a SACRIFICE!

To a hoist, ya niggaz ain't drew to life, my whole crew is trife!

So bring ya wildest nigga rappin' for ya team

See his ass who was clean, this is Suicide Queens

Where gats bust, cut rope, cross Callahtaru

Gather shatter you, feel the pain, son imaginable

Self shit, straight from the hood, the dirty black shit

Rap shit, get ya back ripped, plus the gat spit

Blown in the cockred bag, or 32 tracks

Murder you in raps, let my wild dogs bust the CATS!

Styles leave the best dead, I stay breast-fed

And when I die, be handcuffed til my deadbag

[Chorus] *Sample from "Rampage"*

[Sticky Fingaz]

Sticky Fingaz sneak up, when you least expect it

I never fuck pussy, that seed's infected

Fuck a brain frie, make me think he rational

If I even think you sceamin', YOU KNOW I'MA BLAST YOU

I'm too raw, what issue out your gore? I cut through any challenger

Or top macho immature, you'd rather be in the Projects

But an ass, where's a hundred G's cash

You know gun, in the fuck with Sticky, Fredro 'n Son

You lookin' at one desperate nigga, you shouldn't've messed with

I had a doctor scared, movin' (----)(?)

'Memba when I test it, this nigga manhood

To see if he was a true nigga, so I pulled out my gun

Gave some dramatic asspiece, and pulled the trigger

Haha! Barrel empty, joke on New Jack

He cold, pissed his pants, pulled his cover, he in New Jack

You know where I'm comin' from, most of my niggaz pump 'n jump

And when it's time to dump and run, I never jump the gun

Or get cold feet, I hold heat, ya niggaz don't know me

And six hours are made of four years

Got high shit for your ears, sorry somethin' that I never felt yo

Fingatips made 'em fell chrome, you talkin' shit like it's a little game

That's now how we get down, 'beef' is my middlename

So don't die over nonsense, I ain't got no conscious

Come out ya face you gettin' shot, everything was spittin' hot

I need fame without the bread, like I need a hole in the head

And insult the injury, you can't fuck with me, guess that's not ya capuchi

I'm every star me, if you haul what you eat, fuck the rookies rejects

Play close and detects, I had a hard life, grew up too quik

But kept it tight with my true clique, I start in a new flip

Fuck you're frontin' for? I seen back, what you tell between your leg

Afficial Nast in da house to meet 'em dead!

[Chorus]

[Sonsee]

You takin' a RIDE, in da ambulance

You catch mad damages, cock the hammer shit

Leave you Los like Angeles, You ain't brick, my stock-o

But paper my shit, whatever you got, to take in da way

YOU'RE BAKIN' TODAY, trust that, it's time to crush cats

When I bust raps, I rust tracks and oft act, BUCKWILD!

Army comin' through, hear nigga, DRUNK STYLE!

FUCK YOU! FUCK THE JUDGE! FUCK TRIAL!

I'm givin' nigga shatter ego's, I keep fools

On pet bet face more threat, MAKE 'EM EAT THOSE!

Leave goals my death, sleep ho's get wet

If that ain't enough, we come through and hold ya shit

Hit you with da FIREWORKS, you see the stars BLINKIN'

I really BANG THEM and prepare you for God's ANGELS

It's not a humble, but some shit you can't come through

Nigga try to blow he gotta go, and now you know

He's fearin', from the fearious, irious, dead serious, high styrious

Feelin' ya, interior, wait nervousness for ya services

WE CUTTIN' OFF YOUR CIRCULATION, AND DEAD IN YA PURPOSES!

We them niggaz you can't FUCK with, friend will shine

All mics I slang (--), change your mind

Of those thinkin' they playin' theirself, NEXT is ACTION

Ya stole, you muthafuckaz gettin' CHROME!

[Chorus

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