Beanie Sigel, Peedi Crakk - Flatline lyrics

Uh Uh huh Uh Huh Uh
I'll box your fuckin' head off
Who gon' knock the kid off?
None of y'all which one of y'all, come try me
I'll body little homeboy silence
That sound boy come challenge me please I
Promise you a homi'
And I'm dipping in a bonnie' and
I'm fresh out the county
And I just taught my mami how
To shoot a lil' tool
So I hate for you to run up
Get one up in your stomach
That's one less bullet from
My hundred shot uz'
Put your finger in your gun shot wound
Run to spittle and tell 'em P Crack not cool
He on that shit that 'ill
Make a dead man move
Stop train, airplanes fall dawg you gon' lose
I'm on my twist you on my list
I bring the wop out of the
Spot it's on like shit
That nigga crack back and I'mma
Pop off my blick
That nigga Mack back you need
To hop off our dicks (BRAATT)

Fresh out the federal cases I got several
About four or five just had to settle two
They said I try to show a
Nigga what the metal do
But didn't succeed the nigga still breath
Told em', please
I would of hit him in his p's
With the Mac with the beam that
Got back in the breeze
Only clap from the neck up I'd
Let the heck lar plug 'em
I don't think they made
Kevlar scullys fuck it
I should of let the AR touch him cuffed him
To the bumper drug him two city blocks
The juice in me and the henny shot
Four percs' and a hit of wop
You shoot first if you get the drop
Your deuce work if you hit the spot
Lose the nurse some one get the doc'
Remove his shirt his pressure drop
Check his vital sign his
Hemorrhaging finish him fLATLINE

Load it up roll up BLAT boy flat boy
(flatline) slow up all that rap 'ill
Get that boy clapped boy (flatline)
Oh no here we go another (flatline)
P crack B mack is back boy (flatline)
Get him up outta here rrring yea (rring yea)
Don't get plugged to that machine yea
(machine yea)
Hold up he losing air (flatline) am I clear?
(am I clear?, Flatline) yea (flatline)

B seig'll squeeze the eag' on you
P crack let the Mack rrring on you
Paramedics breath over you
Machines gotta breath for you
Your faggot ass squad wouldn't bleed for you
Get flatlined I'm the wrong one
Short temper with a long gun
My blick longer that a WIC line
Niggas snitch when the law come
You better run when the boy come

P crack'll test his aim on you
B mack just bang on you
Flesh just hang on you
And I don't know what u been told
But when my Mac unload
I'm guaranteed to turn a nigga cold
Got ten shots for the present and the top
Risin' off Porsche eleven about seven stops
Get back on this gat I throw it for my pop
I'm not lying don't get your ass flatline