Lyrics Live from Pimp Palace East - J-Zone
F/
Al-Shide,
Huggy
(What's
your
next
assignment?
Crowd
control
It
means
business
But
not
- repeat
- not
If
it
means
the
destruction
of
the
entire
city
of
New
York)
(Alright
everybody)
[ Huggy
]
No
truth,
there's
only
room
for
ads
Got
so
many
rhymes,
need
to
jot
em
down
on
helicopter
pads
Pluck
silly
mortals
off
of
they
barstools
(?)
spot
a
Benz,
left
community
service
in
a
car
pool
Elegant
for
delf,
can't
describe
my
flows
That's
why
hoes
say
he's
somethin
else
(Go
on
down
and
tell
em)
Huggy's
rhymes
stolen?
That's
like
seein
a
blackman
in
a
Klan
suit
live
rollin
Easter
suits
torn,
Indian
burns
some
Newports
You
make
as
much
noise
as
En
Vogue
without
Dawn
Made
three
rights
but
still
one
left
from
wrong
Frame
that
ass
with
heroin
and
child
porn
How
it
got
there,
nobody
knows
I
drink
to
get
out
of
bed,
that's
how
you
know
I'm
drunk
at
shows
(Yo
Hug,
we
got
space
up
in
here)
That's
aight,
I'll
take
the
stairs
Come
in
more
colors
than
(?)
In
the
Bronx
Blancino
Upstate
white
boy
showin
off
my
libido
Was
here
more
than
Killroy
(Killroy)
You
wouldn't
bring
lard
to
a
Save
the
Whales
protest
So
don't
bring
icey
rhymes
if
it's
Hug
in
contest
(Here
they
are)
(Their
names)
(J-Zone)
(Huggy
Bear)
(Al-Shid)
(He
was
gonna
whip
my
ass)
(I'm
supposed
to
be
impressed?)
(Put
your
money
where
your
mouth
is)
(Who
is
this
muthafucka?)
(I
have
someone
with
me
I'd
like
you
ladies
and
gentlemen
to
meet)
[ Al-Shid
]
I
send
(?)
to
they
oblivion
I
done
won
mo'
fights
with
these
mics
than
the
Heighs
got
Dominicans
Y'all
niggas
take
this
rap
shit
loosely
Couldn't
touch
me
even
if
I
snuffed
you
and
afterwards
said
excuse
me
(my
bad)
Cause
my
click
spit
clips
till
the
delirious
Shit,
I
menopause
you,
they
overdue
when
they
quit
gettin
periods
So
we
can
slap
box,
either
pack
Glocks,
my
rap
rocks
Either
way,
y'all
don't
want
it
like
a
bottle
of
backwash
My
whole
click
is
dumbfound,
mad
deep
and
none
smile
Fuck
around,
we
bring
more
hard
time
than
Sundow
A
bunch
of
while
alcoholics
Keepin
niggas
on
they
toes
like
a
bunch
of
midgets
pissin
at
a
toilet
I
seen
players
forfeit
when
they
see
Huggy
and
Shiddy
Cause
we
don't
see
eye
to
eye
like
Ray
Charles
and
Stevie
Believe
me,
when
I
roll
your
squad's
foldin
What
I
produce'll
have
niggas
sayin
"Holy
Shit!"
like
God's
calling
(Now,
now,
don't
let
me
disrupt
things)
(Who
the
fuck
are
you?)
(J-Zone,
baby)
[ J-Zone
]
J-Zone,
I
got
a
up
at
chasin
Napster
for
checks
Because
I'm
broker
than
James
Evans
with
platinum
respect
So
I'm
swingin
for
the
back
fences
till
the
downloading
stops
And
pimp
and
rap
(?)
till
I'm
rich
as
Gary
Coleman's
pops
(Yo,
kids
got
dubs
of
your
tapes
givin
you
pounds,
man)
Tell
em
eat
a
dick
until
they
give
a
nigga
SoundScan
(Haha,
aight)
But
let
me
flip
the
subject
To
rappers
rockin
wife
beaters
and
barely
weigh
a
buck
wet
Y'all
need
to
eat
a
steak
or
something,
fuck
it,
put
some
weight
on
Saw
_Menace_
and
wanna
get
your
Larenz
Tate
on
SP's
to
Cubase
to
Dr.
Rhythm
basics
With
beats
I
sell
fat
cans
of
botulism
cases
Punk,
you
must
be
dumb,
that's
a
ass
whippin
in
a
can
And
rubbers
make
me
numb,
so
I
can
never
be
a
Minute
Man
Crusin
on
a
date,
pumpin
Bushwick
Bill
And
I'm
over
due
for
a
shape-up
but
I
push
dick
still
Best
producer
on
the
mic?
Ah-ah,
never
claimed
it,
money
Fuck
it,
I'ma
be
him
though
till
someone
come
and
take
it
from
me
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