Big Pun, Busta Rhymes - Parental Discretion lyrics

A yo, I'm hard to talk to
If you live, I probably fought you
Stalked you where you walked through at night
Caught you, then tried to extort you
New York niggas is trigger happy
Got Pataki scared
This town ain't big enough for both of
Us and I ain't goin' nowhere!
There it is, plain and simple
Like Jigga, my game is mental
While slow niggas better know I blow
They brains out they temples
I'm into black magical torture
Romantic, dramatical author
Compatible with the average New Yorker
A fast talker, like Tony when he gassed Sosa
The masked enforcer
Out for the cash and the cho-cha
Smash the coca, bottle it up
Watch the fiends gobble it up
If I roll up, you do what? Swallow the stuff!
I don't give a fuck anymore
I'm only 24 years old and
I've already broken every law
I'm horrorcore, this is for the heads
Runnin' up in your crib
Now if you still hidin' under the bed

Parental discretion advised! Cover your eyes!
Little kids get out of here!
This shit is homicide!
Drugs and money, this ain't no Bugs Bunny!
Little girls too this ain't for
You, it's for the thugs, honey!

A yo, my shit's the truth, 150 proof
No question parental discretion advised
Keep out the eyes of the youth
It's too explicit
Bullshit! I challenge the statistics
Violence existed before our music
Was even suggested arrested on sight
It's like there's no rights
That's why I rhyme so aggressive and
Bring every message to life
I fight the power
Spike the powder the 90 percent
Keep 10 and feed Twin
Half for personal reasons
The seasons change, things re-arrange
But I stay the same
I played the game for the wealth
Until I've made myself a name
So blame it all on the gangster rapper
Thanks to Joey Crack for the chance to do it
My way like Frank Sinatra
I ain't an actor so it's all facts
Strictly raw rap
Totally intended for yours dressed
In all black
With the ski mask or the pantyhose
Makin' cameos in liquor store cameras
With the twin Calicos

Parental discretion advised! Cover your eyes!
Little kids get out of here!
This shit is homicide!
Drugs and money, this ain't no Bugs Bunny!
Little girls too this ain't for
You, it's for the thugs, honey!

So forget the boom
One look, you shook you know I'm stickin' you
Liftin' you off the ground
Look down that's where I'm puttin' you
Look in my eyes and remember me
How does it feel mentally
Havin' the enemy be the last
Thing you ever see?
The recipe is death and I'm the chef
Fricasseein' your flesh
Be my guest, but I ain't cleanin' the mess
Me and TS
We testin' niggas faith just to see they face
Expression when destined to states
That death be in the case
I'm in the state of grace, in the hated race
By the pagan face
Couldn't fight us, made a virus, gave us AIDS
I paved the way 'cause they ain't get me yet
Wet me or affect me yet i know they comin'
They just tryin' to let me sweat
I recollect when I was just a boy
Eatin' Chips Ahoy!
Wasn't allowed to raise my voice
Now I'm makin' noise
No more toys, strictly MAC's and missiles
Shorties with forties packin' pistols
Catchin' bodies makes you official
So they say, I pray there's a better way
My kids don't do as I do, they do as I say
'cause daddy don't play

Parental discretion advised! Cover your eyes!
Little kids get out of here!
This shit is homicide!
Drugs and money, this ain't no Bugs Bunny!
Little girls too this ain't for
You, it's for the thugs, honey!

Word is bond one thing about MC's is that
We don't conceal the truth
We present real pictures about the
Positive and the negative
So don't blame the Hip-Hop
When your seed is learnin' the
Real life from us
Do your duty at home and raise
Your child in the house
Parents, you don't do your job
We gonna put your children to
Bed at nine o'clock past your bedtime
You get your ass in bed
You ain't 'posed to be hearin' this shit
Word up, PUNISHMENT, motherfuckers!
By the Punisher and Busta Rhymes, hah
Terror Squad! Flipmode Squad, niggas!