5 Fingers of Death

[Intro: Samples]
"Where are you?!"
"Hey, there you are!"
"How does it feel to know you only have a few more seconds left to live?"

[Cut and scratched]
"Big L!"

[Verse 1: Big L]
Check it!
I stay jeweled up, pockets swelled up from banks I held up
Plenty bitch-ass niggas Big L stuck
I never catch cold feet when I hold heat
We roll deep in a triple black dark-tinted old Jeep
I catch a fag three o'clock in the morn' on the block all alone
And put a Glock to his dome
Tell him, "Give it up quick, you nitwit! Don't try to get slick
Or I'mma let this four-fifth spit, and leave your shit split"
Prick, it ain’t nothin' decent about me
A true thug, for real, you can ask the precinct about me
A rap junkie, don't try to play me like some flunky
Jewels be chunky, pockets lumpy, attitude grumpy
Mad niggas be frontin' a lot
Poppin' mad shit, tryna be somethin' they not
Your faggot ass better stick to dancin'
Don't even look at me, I might break your jaw just for glancin'
That's right! In '97, Harlem kids is blowin'
And we don't trick, we'll let a bitch starve 'til her ribs are showin'

[Cut and scratched]
"Lord Finesse!"

[Verse 2: Lord Finesse]
Hear the divine mastermind, I turn nickels to dimes
The authentic genuine that's out to shine
The cool cat's the true mack with smooth raps
Chickens be like, "Who that?"
I be doin' my thing, kid (True dat!)
Forget frontin', I'm beyond that
I roll with brothers ready for combat
All for eye-to-eye contact with skills, G
Yo, it's ill, see, for real, B
Ain't no barbecue, niggas better stop tryna grill me
Huh! Sent dead styles to the essence, got niggas stressin'
My style glow like fluorescence — no question!
Tough type to clutch mics
The positive upright, I'm that "I don't give a fuck" type
Expose the facts, you know the halves, could go to laugh
Astrological like the signs in the Zodiac
The rap troop out to stack loot
Word up! My style's tighter than a fat bitch in a cat suit
Surprise, G, it's not wise, see, to size me
When I operate, it's Smooth Sailing like Ron Isley
Gotta do my thing, word up! (Beg ya pardon?)
Time to bounce, gotta skate like Tonya Harding

[Cut and scratched]
"A.G.!"

[Verse 3: A.G.]
Yo, I'm the cleverest top ten terrorist
Chickens ever diss? They become featherless
Hate derelicts, certified gold medalist
You play fly 'cause I'm the most high like Everest
Look at all these fakes, musically you imitate the Crates
Won't succeed movin' at full speed with no brakes
Like Jake, watch me take your entourage
Can't see me, I'm camouflaged
Besides, I'm God
Mad hard like the S.A.T
Now shorty's caught up in the mental, watch her bless A.G
Evidently, you still don't know because you tempt me
Thought you was the boss when your fat thoughts were empty
Not Fat Joey Crack, but still Jealous One's Envy
Who sent me? D.I.T.C., good and plenty like the doctor
Smoke a Spike Joint and watch Clockers
Get rude like Shabba
Make moves, behind my block is crazy sickness
You want the pure? You better pick this
Bitches can't get this, faggots remain dickless

[Cut and scratched]
"Fat Joe!"

[Verse 4: Fat Joe]
Before we get started, let's talk about these coward-hearted
MC's that claim to be true O.G.'s
And war specialists, forever bust your guns on the sack of shit
But when the beef come, get on the ___ before I protest your licks
You know the deal, I come with nothin' but the real
Certified pejente, recognize mi gente
Whether East Coast or West Coast, I'll make 'em all strip naked Bitch niggas will never get respected
Joey Green baggin' devils up in Bowling Green for all is clean
Cock the 9 soon as I seen his Rolie gleam
You know the team, never givin' a fuck
Layin' thick in the cut, get your shit laced up
What the fuck?!

[Cut and scratched]
"Diamond D!"

[Verse 5: Diamond D]
Yo, I'm flippin' on niggas like treys of cracks
My raps react on your cardiac like a heart attack
Some niggas front for stunts
Who want to take a puff of the blunt
And play a nigga like a chump?
But I don't play that shit with no chicks
Suckin' the next nigga's dick, movin' bricks
I'm too slick for you high school dropouts
You got knocked and tried to cop out
Couldn't fight when the kids pulled the mop out
And wails you out, writin' home, sayin', "Bail me out"
Little small time, fucked up when you called mine
D Squared, one of the Greatest of All Times

[Outro: Diamond D]
Yeah! D.I.T.C. representin' for the '97, word life