Reel Goons

[Verse 1: Ruste Juxx]
Break dancing, b-boy, I backspin
Juxx crack back spine with a MAC-10
ILL fill the facts in, all about action
You talk a lot of shit but never shot a nigga
My plan broader, I specialize in manslaughter
Cut the hands off the man with the camcorder
Brook Dodger, home runs and shutouts
Bust a fiend head when I put that uncut out
Leanin' and rockin', hooked on that high dose
Low down and dirty but still I'm high pulse
RJ pack a cannon with some kickback
Cop run up on me, I'ma push a pig wig back
Unapologetic, I said it (I said it)
You fake prosthetic niggas synthetic (synthetic)
Yeah you fucking with the right one
Rolled up eight bats, 'bout to light one
Fuck with me!

[Verse 2: Danny Diablo]
Yeah! Yeahhh!
Queens baby! Diablo gets the money
Put the loot in the bag, ain't nothing funny
The Iceman put fake gangsters to bed
Rockin' black and blue flags, enough said
Got a MAC-10 and a semi auto Ruger
Cut you right in half, Bobby, they call me Freddy Krueger
Snowing and there's still goons ready to kill
The bitch gone bad as we rolling uphill
It's the Crown of Thornz storm, I wreak havoc and pain
Pull your head out son, remember my name
Diablo, I got my Godzilla flow
Tracheas rotting on my way to my show
Gun sales increase, rhyme decreases
The war on drugs, beat these fucking leeches
This ringmaster, I'll fuck your bitch's face
While listening to King Gordy, a merciful fate

[Verse 3: King Gordy]
Y'all act like y’all never seen a fat person before
I'm with your wife high with Wi-Fi searching for porn
A shady '80s breakdancer who basically hates cancer (Fuck it!)
But still fuck bitches who have it, I'll tear that ass up
Licking on her bald head, tell that bitch to stare at me (stare at me)
Her pussy taste like chemotherapy and it's scaring me
I'm a virus, bitch, I'm ISIS in a nice dress
Slicing your wife's flesh, she's crying and trying to fight death (Bitch!)
In a crisis you just lie lifeless
I'm quite shit, I'll die, then rise up like a pilot
Then fly high, then land in a b-boy stance
With some white guys with bags filled with kilograms
And I might try to grab all they weed, oh man
And some White Fire OG, smoking three whole grams
In a Backwood, I rap good and he don't stand
A fucking chance, now give me those bags or get the fuck on (get the fuck on, fuck on, fuck on)

[Verse 4: Raze The Ratchet]
You cats are corny, your story lacks facts
You call me Corey Haim, you lost boy
Your fame came at a cost, boy
Enter your city like the horse in Troy covert
Letting go work, no smirk, here to throw dirt
On your deep grave, the nation was depraved
They waiting to be saved by the solar race
With the heat wave they call me The Ratchet
When the heat wave so behave or you can catch it
And I dumb it down, haters quiet when I come around
I was gone for a second but who want it now?
I don't care what you reppin', lower that weapon
Legend, word to my brethren Seven
That's my dude like Devin, warrior like Kevin
I let the thing go, sling snow to the gringos
Talk the LES lingo even though they bite like a dingo
But you know who's the king bro
Raze! Bingo!