(Verse 1) - Vic Vega
Brought up in this world where everybody's acting shady
Now I'm fighting back the mic like Slim Shady
I'm murderous - a killer instinct, you fools have heard of this
You heard the diss, no time to explain another word of this
You think you're from the streets, fool? I don't give a shit
You wanna act tough, I'll throw your body in a ditch
Kidnap your daughter and kill your babies mama
With no hesitation, boy. Now I'mma bring the drama
My heads turning into flames
I'll stab you in the face twenty times with a knife, I'mma beat the case
What you know about the street life, Busta?
Talking to the feds? Cause I wouldn't even trust ya
Plus, you'rе not a Hero, they see you as a threat
Yapping to thе media and yapping to your friends
Stab me in the back, then you're gonna pay the cost
And plus I'm hard to kill like I'm a motherfuckin' Mob Boss
(Verse 2) - Vic Vega
When I manifest, my technique is never sloppy
You talk behind my back but that shit will never stop me
People in the audience be giving me applause
Showing off my deadly metaphors, because my shit is raw
Fighting back during combat
Every clowns who doubted me can suck the jizz from my ballsack
Rappers get beheaded when I show them my machete
Rolling in a Benz with a chick like Frank Nitti
Looking nice and pretty while these ladies wanna flirt with me
Jealous niggas thinking bout they wanna murder me
Brother man to the motherland
Now I've reached a breaking point, I've got a pistol in my right hand
Smoking cigarette like Rothstein in Casino
Colombian scores, now I'm making 20 kilos
Vic Vega's taking charge while he's speaking
I'm going all out just like a bunch of wild Puerto Ricans
(Verse 3) - Vic Vega
I'm holding the throne and run the streets like Luciano
Top notch killer, whacking snitches like Sopranos
Cold like I'm Marlo, murder plan is "Bravo"
Kill him cause he stole the drugs hidden on the Cargo
Everybody knows that my skills are so critical
Approaching me with negativity cause you ain't lyrical
Messing with the "V" and then you're gonna get your wig split
Forty four mag and now I call that shit my big bitch
Homicidal thoughts in the mind of victorious
Having flashbacks of bloody murders, it's notorious
Going through this shit? I'm getting bored of this
Whoop your fuckin' ass in the ring like the warriors
Showing no remorse, I'll throw your body on the porch
Then I'll make your mother suffer once she's opening the door
Gazing at your dead body, on her knees feeling traumatized
Brothers life been taken by a bullet as the mother cries
Now you know what it's like to feel pain
Funny how your son's shirt is covered in bloodstains
Blowing up the game like a suicide bomber
Raising hell like the temperature's that's rising in Havana
Brought up in this world where everybody's acting shady
Now I'm fighting back the mic like Slim Shady
I'm murderous - a killer instinct, you fools have heard of this
You heard the diss, no time to explain another word of this
You think you're from the streets, fool? I don't give a shit
You wanna act tough, I'll throw your body in a ditch
Kidnap your daughter and kill your babies mama
With no hesitation, boy. Now I'mma bring the drama
My heads turning into flames
I'll stab you in the face twenty times with a knife, I'mma beat the case
What you know about the street life, Busta?
Talking to the feds? Cause I wouldn't even trust ya
Plus, you'rе not a Hero, they see you as a threat
Yapping to thе media and yapping to your friends
Stab me in the back, then you're gonna pay the cost
And plus I'm hard to kill like I'm a motherfuckin' Mob Boss
(Verse 2) - Vic Vega
When I manifest, my technique is never sloppy
You talk behind my back but that shit will never stop me
People in the audience be giving me applause
Showing off my deadly metaphors, because my shit is raw
Fighting back during combat
Every clowns who doubted me can suck the jizz from my ballsack
Rappers get beheaded when I show them my machete
Rolling in a Benz with a chick like Frank Nitti
Looking nice and pretty while these ladies wanna flirt with me
Jealous niggas thinking bout they wanna murder me
Brother man to the motherland
Now I've reached a breaking point, I've got a pistol in my right hand
Smoking cigarette like Rothstein in Casino
Colombian scores, now I'm making 20 kilos
Vic Vega's taking charge while he's speaking
I'm going all out just like a bunch of wild Puerto Ricans
(Verse 3) - Vic Vega
I'm holding the throne and run the streets like Luciano
Top notch killer, whacking snitches like Sopranos
Cold like I'm Marlo, murder plan is "Bravo"
Kill him cause he stole the drugs hidden on the Cargo
Everybody knows that my skills are so critical
Approaching me with negativity cause you ain't lyrical
Messing with the "V" and then you're gonna get your wig split
Forty four mag and now I call that shit my big bitch
Homicidal thoughts in the mind of victorious
Having flashbacks of bloody murders, it's notorious
Going through this shit? I'm getting bored of this
Whoop your fuckin' ass in the ring like the warriors
Showing no remorse, I'll throw your body on the porch
Then I'll make your mother suffer once she's opening the door
Gazing at your dead body, on her knees feeling traumatized
Brothers life been taken by a bullet as the mother cries
Now you know what it's like to feel pain
Funny how your son's shirt is covered in bloodstains
Blowing up the game like a suicide bomber
Raising hell like the temperature's that's rising in Havana
( ic ega )
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