Jon Murdock, Mc Sid, DJ SL, Ricky Fitz, Lex Starwind - The Young White Lady lyrics

Look, call me Candy Man, cats is candy yams
Fold like Andy ants
Pretzels under pressure, I'll test
Ya, hope you ready, fam
Pakistan rhyming with these suicide bombers
Blasting big guns like Contra, brown bomber
Eat niggas, filet mignon-a, Jeffrey Dahmer
Blowing ganga, pulling llamas, Osama
The monster beast from the east
Son who's off of his leash
With guns drawn, busting at my enemies
Pen'll bleed sixteen bars
Jailor lifting weights in the yard
Kick a freestyle, who's touching the God?
S-C-I, the arsonist who's ready to die
Heads fly when I swing sword like Barry Bonds
The negotiator
Your team's trash like the Raiders
Arsonist like bright days at the beach
The sun it blazed ya
Son, I'll take ya, to the point of no return
You pray for Heaven
Even though you starting to burn

Weapon X-ecutioner
Sanitation garbage pollutioners get
Sent to Lucifer
My stone cold stare Medusa ya
P89 Ruger ya, one up to the P90
You want the beef? Find me
I bet I seem grimy
'cause I was raised in the gutta
Will blaze with my brother
Try to duck the sun's rays, run for cover
Motherfucker, don't utter a word
You can't even speak
Used to keep a ox, right up in my sheet
Nigga burned bridges I ain't had to cross
To get a whip like my first album, the 9
11 raspberry Porsche
Cats very soft, call 'em terrycloth
World War I I I is what I
See and what I'm ready for
Lex Star, the pistol military issue, hit you
Send a squad to get
You ripped through gristle, bone and
Tissue, wish you, would, I wish y'all could
Niggas never seen the street, I
Bet you wish y'all hood, nigga

Throw my beat break in to shake
And debate and I'll slay haters
The violent tone
Sit on my throne and scold faces
Latch the blacksmith mask on, iron maiden
Molded by Murdock himself, try and face it
F dation, neck break in the best placement
Finger grips in your neck, you can't brace it
With screws in your forehead
Tightened for stability
Have to move your whole torso to see
You ain't as ill as me
Spit the flamethrower to blow ya
The game's over
The same soldier with the Range Rover
My game's ultra peace to Philly Toboggan
Speak silly to Goggin
No information for him, it's not a problem
Don't run from the siren
The situation that I'm in
Will make the paramedics come through
And perform the Heimlich

Motherfucker, Foundation
Sagittarius, basement basin, blazin'
Yo, 2004, spitting a bar, what