Lyrics One Call - Special Teamz

Give it up, yeah
One, two, three, four
You better empty every bank account and bet it on Special Teamz
Say that repeatedly, do not forget it
Cause the way you niggas spit gives me a headache
You're pathetic, it bothers me even though I shouldn't let it
I'm the nicest nigga up here
You gotta give me credit, yeah I said it
Put your gasoline drawers on cause hell is where you're headed
These enemies hate on Jaysaun and Metadeit
Got a pet four-fifth and hollowheads is what I fed it
Before I feed it I will end your life, believe it
You will end up quadriplegic, hardly breathing
At the same time I'll be bailing out your local precinct
No matter what the season I'm released
And I will show up at your house for no reason
I wasn't born to be a savage, man, the childhood was average
Now addicted to the carats and the cabbage
Repeat after me, similar to a parrot
You see me and Edo G, yup, we still gotta have it

We ain't scared of none y'all
Cause we can get all y'all hit up with one call
We birthed your style, in other words we sonned y'all
You don't run nothing here, nigga, we run y'all
The S dot T dot, Special Teamz the initials
And anything that differs from that is unofficial

(Edo G)

You faggots still cower at the ill hour
Ain't no such thing as a great talent without great will power
You soft as flowers and you're starting to wilt
You rappers got a shelf life of a carton of milk
Put the game on tilt, take it on chest
That's how I was built
Watch your mouth, that's how you get killed
Blood gets spilt and I'mma put it in their mind
Wars are fought one bullet at a time
Battles are won with one, put it in their rhyme
I'm right up front, the front of the line
Stood on the grind, wood on the line
So the berry could eat, who said Edo was sweet?
Special Teamz, put your head to the cleats
While the bitches nod their head to the beat
Double-wood homie, dead, you're released
As the violence increase and in Boston I pray for peace
As I stand over a man that lays deceased

We ain't scared of none y'all
Cause we can get all y'all hit up with one call
We birthed your style, in other words we sonned y'all
You don't run nothing here, nigga, we run y'all
The S dot T dot, Special Teamz the initials
And anything that differs from that is unofficial

(Slaine)

Come on, turn me up
I'm the wickedest jerk, quick to stick my dick in skirt
Of a bitch with a perm, dope with an itch and sick with a germ
My syphilis sperm hitting a spliff with a burn
I was suicidal before but now my pistols are turned
And the world is in trouble now, I really think so
Cause I got a bunch of guns and I never learned to drink slow
Plus I got an inkling that it's time to let the ink flow
I got an iron on me so my pants are never wrinkled
I bang with the bangers, hang with the slangers
Bring the cocaine to the game until I became famous
Till I became Slaine, shit I coulda became nameless
Instead I became hungry until I became shameless
Slaine, Ed, and J, serenade the renegade from center state
To renovate the inner state of a sinner's mind
From the pen and page, this is cooked yey, homie
Crack, motherfucker, crack motherfucker
(Yeah, my momma better pray for me)

We ain't scared of none y'all
Cause we can get all y'all hit up with one call
We birthed your style, in other words we sonned y'all
You don't run nothing here, nigga, we run y'all
The S dot T dot, Special Teamz the initials
And anything that differs from that is unofficial