Testo: Fes Taylor. Flight 10304 (T-2 Fly). Lunch Meat.

(feat. Lot-A-Nerv)

[Chorus x2: Fes Taylor]
Niggas is lunch meat, I let the wolves get em
My doves holla full moon now sick em
We take the collar off the bull dog sick em
Wanna problem with beef then bull yard sick em

[Lot-a-Nerv:]
Nigga you want it I got it, Shine playa shine
How bright like the light that flash from the forty-five
I'm a ride til the cops are screaming at homicide
Killa Hill Staten Island is where I fucking reside
Where the wild wolves sick you and the weak niggas die
And you see a full moon when even the sunshine
I'm alive and I'm breathing, I'm moving in on my prey
I don't care if you a rhino I'm knawing down on a leg
When you dead see we see you like lunch meat
Thank the Lord Biggie Smalls I know the meaning of beef
Lesson One, It ain't beef if he ain't rolling with heat
Then you pop a nigga top let's hope he thinking it's sweet
Like a pepper when it's hot, Then I catch ya
And leave you on a stretcher while homeboy leaking a lot of ketchup
Nigga who wanna grind, Nigga who getting shine
Top Guns, Lot-a-Nerv, I told ya this year is mine

[Chorus]

[Fes Taylor:]
Raised by the wolves, Young Mowgli
It's two-four like the number of Kobe, The one and only
Tony Reed-Van on my birth certificate
The first to finish in a ten mile race
Like life a marathon, I just carry on
Like I need Jesus in my life, Maybe Farrakhan
Become the new Don
I'm good gwap you niggas is coupons
White golds no silver I don't do no bronze
Cool like the Fonz, Two thumbs up
If it's beef we like D-Block, Two guns up
What, Keep your mouth shut, I got a South slut
That'll set your ass up while up on the couch nut
The fuck niggas wanna do, I already warned you
Run up on your bitch ass, Take your corner too
I curse a lot, Niggas hear my verse and pop
So when they try to play my shit yo they music stop
You hit the turn table one more time
Like Bilal in House Party, Nigga come outside
I ride, Glide on twenty-six inch wheels
Bad bitch with some six inch heels
That's how I feel, Fuck it, I do it like it's nothing
Cause I was born to be a super star emcee, Momma look at me
Listen, Scrooge McWolf, I do the back stroke
Swimming in my money, A handful will get your ass smoked

[Chorus]