[Tame One]
One, two - this is all New Jeruz
Three, four - rough rugged and raw
Five, six - Perth Amboy in the bricks
Seven, eight - increase the crime rate
Tame been all city since Tootie had small titties
Come to the malls with me and I'm spendin all 50's
High again, with enough smoke to choke a fireman
Last seen with 76 Phillies like Iverson
I am bent in my environment, where I invent
Lyrical violence that'll seperate the mice, from the men
I Timberland swamp stomp competition that's listenin
Twice as interesting cause I'm different
The difference in bein a champ, and goin the distance
Tame One the cheech wizard, tragic magic mental dyslexic
Be rappin backwards when I practice, mentally hit bent
Like I'm takin a shit
I drink a whole Hennessy fifth and won't trip
See me in the corner rollin chocolate chips from lil' bricks
With a Isabella twenty-twen-twen-twin like Chris Tucker
"This motherfucker," Tame is that nigga
Smoke a half wit'cha, if not then take this bag wit'cha
Tamer-D, T-H-E, Man
Smoke a whole bag of quicksand when drunk up off the Dristan
[Chop Diesel]
One, two - yo you know how we do, it's like
Three, four - strictly hardcore
Five, six - to them cats that pop shit
Seven, eight - straight from the Garden State
Nine, ten - Diesel at it again
In this rap game you WAY off, got blown out in the playoffs, listen
I'm MVP, and you ain't even gettin honorable mention
Yo' intention, should be retirin and collection yo' pension
You played the bench, your whole career, what would you really be missin?
Not a thing - niggas is dreamin like Dr. King
I got a team, ready to make, a lot of cream
Rappers be constantly killin 'em, they should change their names
To novocaine - why? Cause I ain't feelin 'em
Told jokers, New Jeru comin through
Slide your silly ass over, fall like October
When we roll like soldiers, you couldn't handle the weight
That's like carryin 10 boulders on your shoulder
Call me out, I do what I have to do
If you died I'd commit suicide, and go to hell just to battle you
Aiyyo face it, you ain't rippin shit
E'rything real you basic, just like first grade arithmetic
[K Banger]
K, K, born for melee
And pray one of these days you'll sound the same way
I write like my pen flows straight from the Great Lakes
Your style only fit in one template
Steady pushin bars off my chest like I'm puttin the bench weight
Just until the neck break, we livin for death sake
You're no immortal, my thoughts will scorch you
The court martial, takin crews to law school
Yo Miilk man, these fools still ride with the kickstand
I spit more than hicks chewin snuff or spit cans
It's hip, hop, whether you like it or not
Yo, what y'all want to do? Just count it down
[Miilkbone]
One, two - what ch'all cats wan' do
Three, four - Jersey gon' stay raw
Five, six - Amboy to the bricks
Seven, eight - but kid you carry weight
Nine, ten - it's Miilk and I'm back again
To mack again and rap again
Now let, me, tell you about me
Your girl beeps, me, after if you doubt me
Would I should I could I, see her with nothin on
Can't you won't you don't you get your hustle on
Master Miilk eat you and change
Eat your track, feed you the trains
Photo finish I'll defeat you in frames
Heat you in flames, you one dollar boy - I'll beat you for change
Eat your remains, f'real, this is deep in my veins
Sleep wit'cha dame, put holes in yo' head, peek at your brain
I spit FIYAH, I get hot, I got beef with the rain
Got the urge to explain, the nerve to complain
You rap smaller cuts than the diamond curvin my chain
I serve champagne make 'em wanna swerve in my lane
Miilkbone is so fly is he a bird or a plane? C'mon
10, 9 - millimeter need a rhyme
Screamin 8, 7 - keep weapons on my mind
6, 5, 4 all y'all who get raw
3, 2, 1 Miilk and Jersey don't run
A Few Good Men was written by Tame One & K Banger & Chop Diesel & Miilkbone.