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Yeah Outlandish, I brandish the weapon of mass Destruction, I cut 'em, I'm bustin' yo' ass Sucka-ass cats be sufferin' succotash Sylvester, still wreck you, fuck's this trash? (Woo) I'm Sean Price (Price) and the price is millions Gang-raid mother, the soul of a thousand children Half God body, other half Rob Zombie Lift chrome, gets dissed on like I'm John Gotti Investin' in chrome, Sylvester Stallone First blood, the first slug rest in ya dome Uh, the man stunt with the God step I'm old school like manhuntin' the projects Believe it, dude Undisputable bars, you far from believable I epitomize thuggy Then dignify sky-rise that signified Bugsy When you died, the whole corner wept Love to your kids, strength and respect to Bernadette I thank you for your earned respect And every time we rhyme it's like you returned from death A don like Gotti Rappers ain't got no job like Tommy You Dragonfly Jones, tryna do karate I'll pop the shotty, send shots through your body Letras de cancionesHuh, Bam Bam Bigelow Your girl pay me for dick, American Gigolo Bring the beef and the triggers blow They say you nice as Reef, but niggas know it isn't so You a rat that'll sing like Lil' Mo Philly shit, Doc J, Moses Malone and Little Mo Mo Cheeks, Small Pro, dope beats Sean P, forever may your soul find peace Smokes to ashes, ashes to dust I'll whack a wack rapper with an elephant tusk One blood, too cold, in Sean that we trust Might earn no half, sure to measure it up Team cookin' up crack, too short with the pump How the cops get the tape? Chauncey chewin' on guns Pay your monkey ass late, I'll fill you with slugs Soul rebel, assassin, I'm chillin' with Muggs Elmer Fudd below the Mason, we're erasin' some bugs Shown by KMD how black bastards are loved Throwin' back tear gas with my Warsaw mass Face-to-face, riot gear and obsidian gloves I'm the kid in the lobby tryna John Gotti Usin' all the chaos to pickpocket the fuzz While The Don held court and the Teflon stood Cops throw they hammer shots to Russia with love Ooh-wee, yes I'm a hell of a guy The world was always mine, fly pelican, fly Joyridin' in the whip that we borrowed from the body shop Biters get the backhand, finger jab, karate chop You dealin' with some moon-night marauders Black moons ain't baggin' out the flyin' saucer White mask covers the face, black tape covers the jake The smuggler is covered in haze, but um The bourbon general, you just a maker's mark We don't need a camera phone to get your face enlarged Rappin' is fun, the rat race is hard That's why the suicide king is your favorite card I don't believe in God, that shit is superstition And you just paid your bookie with your kid's tuition Don't upload your music, man, who would listen? 'Cause you couldn't lace a beat like shoes in prison From Letras Mania