Fight Club Lyrics
Crooked I:
Joey, no rules, gun shots no prob
No jewels, niggas say I got robbed
I’m still wearin my bling
And fuck 1st class I fly standin on Virgin America’s wing
Nuts hang, knockin down sky scrapers
Take a piss, make it rain, I’m the American dream
Make it rain I ain’t Pacman Jones
Nigga, balls and my word, all a black man owns
Joe Budden:
If you in that man zone, how you figure to gain
Can’t bowl a 300 in another niggas lane
Better aim, you dealin with a 7 - 10 split
Crooked I:
That’s Long Beach cause we on some 710 shit
Joell Ortiz:
I been nice since 227 man shit
I am sick, and I’m never gettin better that’s it
Give me somethin sharp to sever that prick
Like a group broke up I will dismember that click
Royce Da 5?9:
I’m a veteran remember that shit
We some internet rappers?
Then why you on our internet dicks
We’ll be there when it’s war callin
Either we high or we fly or the floor fallin
I’m a Tommy Gun, it ain’t no best
The rap game like the St. Louis vs New York battle, nobody won
A bunch of fuckin 2’s, and 3’s like zone defense
Joe Budden:
Please get at dude’s Ortiz
Joell Ortiz:
Nah you beast em
Joe Budden:
Hold up, won’t stop, can’t stop, thank pops
Hard headed, gotta hit a wall first like a bank shot
Get it clear, a coke head’s a thin line between friend or foe
Won’t let this shit disappear
This fiscal year, I’ma stay hot buzzin
With dude’s that help me shoot like A-rod cousin
walk in my shoes and ya feet get callus
From Jersey City to Caesar’s Palace
I speak with malice just to make sure the streets get salvaged
Real talk where would all of us be without it
Slaughterhouse no fear, too many dudes Tyson Chandler
Tried to leave their team and went nowhere
Crooked I:
Like Tyson Chandler in the past niggas on some bullshit
Royce tell Preme I got a full clip
Niggas used to run when they saw Suge’s face
Faster then Joey and Joell in a foot race
Now you ask me where the incident took place
Don’t check the internet check hood space
You dealin with some intelligent creatures
I don’t touch guns I draw with telekinesis
No finger prints on Crooked’s mag
I’m mixed with good and bad like the Goodfellas and Jesus
First Biggie and Jay made it
I’ll leave a bandana at your murder and make it gang related
The bitch at the Shoney's told me homie
Joell Ortiz:
Ortiz I’m the one and only
Pick a spot, I pick apart you dudes who pick a part
This ain’t a movie, I feel bad like lookin at a pic of Pac
Niggas hearts gettin sparked, everytime I give an arc
To my wrist and it twists like a spliff when I’m sittin in the park
Tall corny niggas ain’t makin a bigger mark
I’m BOOTH DRUGS what I does got em runnin to get a narc
You guppies unlucky you in a tank with a shark
Teeth crooked like my dog who just finished a vicious bark
Royce Da 5?9:
Flick a dart through your top hat
Weak emcee’s you cannot rap
Freq’ where the drop at?
Now ya mad at Tahiri cause ya ass ain’t famous
Get it nigga? Ya ass ain’t famous
Quit talkin about me cause ya ass ain’t dangerous
They call me Hustler cause my mag game henious
Show up to Detroit thinkin everybody loves you
And I’ma come and show you that your ass ain’t Raymond
Dumbin every line, me fuckin bitches is like the cops
After a murder they comin everytime
Shelltoes, and ??? Jacket, the contractor
Still pushin elbows like a linebacker
And ya’ll playin, my world wide bitches
On my world wide watch I call it the broad band
