[Fredro Starr (Sticky Fingaz) {Sonsee}]
(Yo what’s up baby?)
Ay yo Stick man, shit is fucked up!
(Who the fuck this?)
It’s fuckin Fredro man!
(Yo yo yo, turn the muthafuckin music down god.)
It’s my fuckin word, Sticky, man!
(Yo what’s up nigga?)
Muthafuckas wetted everything out there.
(What the fuck you talkin about?)
Muthafuckas is dead, son!
(Yo yo, calm down nigga, calm down!)
Word to fuckin mother man!
(Just tell me what happened, god.)
It had to be about eight o’clock (Uh huh, uh huh)
When niggas sprayed the block, it’s mad hot
Yo half the spot got locked
(What? Who got shot?)
My little nigga Bill from down the hill
We had a one through five
I heard he might not survive (Aw, damn)
He caught one in his leg
Two shots hit him in his upper (What?)
Part of his chest, two inches above his vest
Heard you next (I’m next?)
That’s the word in the projects
(What? Them niggas ain’t no threat
They’ll whole set’ll get wet
Yo go get the AK, and my two nines with the silencers
And at seven thirty, y’all niggaz meet me at Veronica’s)
Aight, no doubt, yo be safe, yo nigga I’m out
{Let me talk to him, let me talk to him}
Yo yo Stick hold up, yo yo yo Stick, talk to Son
(Aight, aight) Don’t even wet that done, yo I’m bringin mad guns
{Ay yo Stick, that’s my word
It might be them niggas from Riverside
Cuz I heard they knew somethin
About how my little nigga died}
(Who who, little Dave with the red car?)
{Yeah, he had beef up there
With the same ones we seen at the strip arcade
With the scar by his head}
(Aight aight, get the big shit, no bullshit, it’s time to flip
And I’ll see y’all niggas later, be safe)
{No doubt, aight kid}

Then they jumped in the Expo
Aiyyo Son slow down, we got mad techs yo
Fuck that I’m vexed yo!
Yeah I know, I know but chill, let alone and chill
We meet the gods so we can bill on these niggas for real

It was a half an hour drive ‘fore they finally arrive
Veronica came to the door, she smiled and said

[Veronica]
Hi, hi! Step inside, get out the rain get dry
Sticky’s in the back playing pool by the sauna

[Fredro Starr (Sticky Fingaz) {Sonsee} *Veronica*]
We stepped in the back all I smelled was marijuana
(Yo what’s up?) Yo nigga what’s up
(You know I don’t give a fuck
Them niggas time’s up
You got them two nines or what?)
No doubt, I bought it all out
{Kid I’m ready to go to war!}
(Ay yo yo yo, chill let’s play it smart
And catch em by surprise
We’ll do it on the ninjas
In the mornin before the sunrise
Ay yo Veronica, *Yes?* yo gimme some beers
And cook me some food, I’m starvin)
*Ok, alright darlin*
Yo Stick, what’s up with this bitch?
(I’m startin to like this chick)
Yo she a bad bitch
{Yeah, plus her dad is rich}
(Yo fuck it, rack it up
C’mon lemme bust your ass
Nine ball)
Yeah aight, put your money where your mouth is
Winner take all
{Ay yo, I got next, pass me a Beck’s and a philly
Cuz this L we bout to puff is for my nigga Billy}

A hour passed

*Dinner’s ready* What’s to eat?
*I made spaghetti in clam sauce*
(See? She know I’m the damn boss)
*I’ma go upstairs and lay down
You guys enjoy your meal*
{Yo how many rooms this spot got? This crib is ill}
Ay yo this food is slammin, god
She cook like she black
(Yeah, and after this I’ma go upstairs and tear out her back)

*It’s me, Veronica. Yeah they’re all here right now
Ok, alright*
(Veronica? *Huh?* Who was that?)
*Oh, oh just my dad*
(C’mere my little freak dog, why you lookin so sad?
You want daddy to cheer you up?
You know you like when I spank you
So bend over by the bedpost and grab your ankles)

(After three nut, then fell the fuck out

[Intro]
Yo FUCK THAT word up man! (Word to mother yo)
Who you runnin wit? (AFFICIAL NAST!)
Fuck that, who you runnin wit? (AFFICIAL NAST!)

[Fredro Starr]
Yo
I’m goin straight for your head to leave you headless
Eyes of redness, I spray rap cats, to burn the lead tips
Point blank range, I take aim, blow your brain out the frame
Eight shots’ll touch ya, spit ya physical structure
Motherfucker this is lyrical destruction
Path of disaster face Nast, comin at cha full blast
and capture grabs your last, breath like the asthma
Couldn’t care less, you approachin near death
My hollow tips, rip into your vest politic, with the fearless
The devil himself, a rebel in himself
trapped in America, assassinate your character, slaughter ya
Twenty more holes, in your Nautica, FUCK ALL OF YA!
What?! Bringin MC’s, YEAH, callin ya
Livin like a nigga with six months to live
On the edge of life, wouldn’t think twice, to make a SACRIFICE
Do a heist, ya niggaz ain’t true to life, my whole crew is trife!
So bring your wildest nigga reppin for your team
Tear his ass to his spleen, this is Suicide Queens
Where gats bust, cutthroat, cross collateral
Gat’ll shatter you, feel the pain, it’s unimaginable
Self shit, straight from the hood, the dirty black shit
Rap shit, get your back ripped, plus the gat spit
Load it and cock it bag, on thirty-two tracks
Murder you in raps, let my wild dogs bust the CATS!
Styles leave the best dead, I stay breast-fed
And when I die, be handcuffed, to my deathbed

{*scratched “face down on the pavement” -> LL Cool J*}

[Sticky Fingaz]
Sticky Fingaz sneak up, when you least expect it
I never fuck pussy that’s yeast infected
Fuck a brain fry, make me think irrational
If I even think you schemin, YOU KNOW I’M BLASTIN YOU
I’m too raw; what is you – out you gourd?
I cut through any challenger, top notch or amateur
You’d rather be in the projects butt-ass with a hundred G’s cash
and no gun, than to fuck with Sticky, Fredro ‘n Son
You lookin at one desperate nigga, you shouldn’t mess with
I had a doctor scared to remove a bullet from yo’ intestine
‘Member when I tested, this nigga manhood
to see if he was a true nigga, so I pulled out my gun
Gave some dramatic ass speech then, pulled the trigger
{*CLICK*} Ha hah! Barrel empty, joke on you Jack
He cold pissed his pants, blew his cover, he a New Jack
You know where I’m comin from, most my niggaz pump ‘n jump
And when it’s time to dump and run, I never jump the gun
or get cold feet, I hold heat
Y’a niggaz don’t know me; in six hours I made up four years
Got high shit for your ears;
sorry somethin that I never felt yo, fingertips made of Velcro
You talkin shit like it’s a little game
That’s now how we get down – ‘beef’ is my middle name
So don’t die over nonsense, I ain’t got no conscience
Come out your face you gettin shot
Everything I’m spittin hot – I need fame without the bread
like I need a hole in the head
Add insult to injury, you can’t fuck with me
Guess that’s not your cup of tea – I’m every star I meet
If you are what you eat, fuck the rookies, rejects
plainclothes and detect’s
I had a hard life, grew up too quick
But kept it tight with my true click, startin a new flip
Fuck you frontin for? I seen your bag
with your tail between your leg
Afficial Nast in the house that mean you DEAD!

{*scratched “face down on the pavement” -> LL Cool J*}

[Sonsee]
You takin a RIDE, in the ambulance, you catch mad damages
Cock the hammer shit, leave you Los(t) like Angeles
You ain’t brick, or stucco, or paper machete
Whatever you got, get taken away, YOU’RE BAKIN TODAY
Trust that, it’s time to crush cats, when I bust raps
I rush tracks, and oft’ act, BUCKWILD!
ACheck out more Lyrics from Onyx. 
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