Fight To The Death

[Grim]

Bring it on, I'm looking for someone to beat up on
An evil spawn from a killer back from Vietnam
Shut the fuck up for a minute and let me record
I shit all over rap cats like European porn
You be at war, start fleeing off
From my fist to your face come together like the Beetles song
Cats are CB4
I'm a one percent on a level, y'all ain't even close to being on
My team'll swarm on all you to get paid
Take you out quick like pawns in a chess game
Hawk in your neck vein
Leave you to drain and hack you up in the dawn of the next day
I hope mothafuckers came prepared
Really hoping you don't make me have to raise my hands
And I'm willing to face the chair
Cuz I'm comfortable in cages like St. Pierre

[Hook - Grim]
It's a fight to the death
Bring it right to your set swinging hard with the right and the left
Mothafucker front get a knife in the chest
Cuz mothafucker it's a fight to the death
[2x]

[Jay-Sin]

Since I spit on Dine In Hell I lock shit down just like a prison cell
But like an old school Nas track this shit ain't hard to tell
In a laboratory stirring shit up like I'm Gargamel
Embarking on a voyage, bon voyage I hope you wish me well
But on another note I never let um crush my hope
I'd rather place the musket scope directly on they fucking throat
And you can quote that this the realest shit I ever wrote
I push the envelope and now they hanging on my every note
Who said Sin and Team Beef wasn't fam no more
That's like telling little kids there's no such thing as Santa Clause
I demand a war and treat it strictly for the feeble
Death before dishonor, I die for the love of the life my people
We are not created equal, you a punk with no heart
And that shit could never work like tryna light a match with no spark
So disappear before I end more than your career
I'll put a hook inside your head and pull your brain out through your ear

(Hook)

[Grim]

Fucking madman, someone you should probably sweat
Leave the side of your face looking like Harvey Dent
Run right in your place and leave your noggin wet
Big knife on the waist, I'm leaving all you dead
My style's foul like a fucking dead body scent
My shit is real loud, leave you with a hollow head
The mothafucking future's grim, that's what my father said
All I need is liquor and some weed and I'm content
I'll stomp your mothafucking guts until you vomit red
Anybody stepping to me's lacking common sense
Ready for war like 300 of Sparta's best
Throwing spears, swinging swords at you so guard your necks
Mothafuckers better have a firearm and vest
Or I promise I'll leave nothing left for God to bless
My squad always marches with the hearts of vets
I've had it with you mothafuckers dawg who want it next

Yeah. Mothafuckers. Black Out Productions. 2009 shit mothafuckers. Nightwalker on the beat. Freedom of speech, Team Beef shit. Pussy