Dom Pachino, Shyheim - The Strength lyrics
[Dom Pachino, Shyheim - The Strength lyrics]
Shut 'em down napalm, Napalm, Napalm, Napalm
Catch you out there
Napalm, is, the, strength
Napalm, is, the, strength (you feel it?)
Napalm, is, the, strength (the power)
We, will, reinvent
I'm going supernova, hotter than the o-zone
Nigga, it's over, submit to my war poems
Not just a soldier, captain
Lieutenant or colonel
With the, camouflage pad
And my pen is infernal
I'm a street cat, yeah, that's a fact
You do, dirt in the streets
You gotta eat that
I pay my dues, bookoo is my receipt, black
Addresses of a war, please
Let me repeat that it can be a penalty
But I won't lose sleep on that
If I deserve it, then I need it
And I receive it back
If it works out with music
I receive a plaque
Maybe receive and stack, if it don't
Then some folks are gonna see the mack
Nine one one
They gon' run and wanna see the jack
See these cats, be from the Stat'
That's Staten Island, we be steaming tracks
I'm bout my business, ain't talking green
Then ease on back
You got clapped hap', for all that plah hah
Ah hah! You sheep in wolf clothing
You laugh like "bah hah"
Three fifty seven mi-hi hag' on my waste
Word to John Taste
I take the bullets out his face
Aww shit, they love this, hard shit
In the clubs and in, little bars and shit
The talk in the barbershop, shots real hot
The talk in the nail saloon, my dick is long
And that ain't mere hear say, or gossip
I'm known for stacking bundles like
I was squad up
In the Benz by myself, with a nine mil' on me
Cops pull me over, that's a flat ten for me
Chill, jail's a thing of my past
But, I will, blast, Rondell Wilson they ass
Put they brains on they belly
Had to tell a chick
Every light skin nigga that's big
Ain't Nelly
Catch you out there
Napalm, is, the, strength
Napalm, is, the, strength (you feel it?)
Napalm, is, the, strength (the power)
We, will, reinvent
I'm going supernova, hotter than the o-zone
Nigga, it's over, submit to my war poems
Not just a soldier, captain
Lieutenant or colonel
With the, camouflage pad
And my pen is infernal
I'm a street cat, yeah, that's a fact
You do, dirt in the streets
You gotta eat that
I pay my dues, bookoo is my receipt, black
Addresses of a war, please
Let me repeat that it can be a penalty
But I won't lose sleep on that
If I deserve it, then I need it
And I receive it back
If it works out with music
I receive a plaque
Maybe receive and stack, if it don't
Then some folks are gonna see the mack
Nine one one
They gon' run and wanna see the jack
See these cats, be from the Stat'
That's Staten Island, we be steaming tracks
I'm bout my business, ain't talking green
Then ease on back
You got clapped hap', for all that plah hah
Ah hah! You sheep in wolf clothing
You laugh like "bah hah"
Three fifty seven mi-hi hag' on my waste
Word to John Taste
I take the bullets out his face
Aww shit, they love this, hard shit
In the clubs and in, little bars and shit
The talk in the barbershop, shots real hot
The talk in the nail saloon, my dick is long
And that ain't mere hear say, or gossip
I'm known for stacking bundles like
I was squad up
In the Benz by myself, with a nine mil' on me
Cops pull me over, that's a flat ten for me
Chill, jail's a thing of my past
But, I will, blast, Rondell Wilson they ass
Put they brains on they belly
Had to tell a chick
Every light skin nigga that's big
Ain't Nelly