Channel 10 - Capone-N-Noreaga

It takes nothin' but a hot slug to fill a villian

'Cause I’m about to make a killin'

Some weed to escalate the feelin'

I regulate the dealin' jealous niggas hate the feelin'

I stack my safe appealin' jake on my trace I’m peelin'

And with a MAC I had the whole fuckin' nation kneelin'

Embrace the wheel and hit a buck without crashin' fuck

My drug passion got a nigga stashin' fast what

One love to Hillbillies, run forever out to Chile

Playin' the cuts nigga what can’t stop the willy

Cops harassin' niggas blastin' while the day' passin'

Time for action cock the mac what a satisfaction

Shoot laughin' slug caught up in the chest gaspin'

Nigga blanked out chopped before he start rappin'

Microchips in the celly the game don’t stop (don't stop)

Tappin' in your bank funds with the laptop (laptop)

Wanna own a block before the ball drop (ball drop)

Arab Nazi puttin' hits on the cops (x2)

Noreaga talking:

Word up son fucked up son word up Trag.

I know you know us both man but it

Took the penal for us to click youknowhatI’msayin'?

(yeah y’all met up

North) KnowhatI’msayin' we had to meet up north (know what’s real about all

This though that…) What real about it?

(we were young we strive we trying

To eat knowhatI’msayin'?) God degree (we got a lot of fake niggas out man)

7−3 and 12 jewels.

Niggas ain’t bustin' that heat man.

Niggas just frontin'

Yo they ain’t bustin' they heat they know who they is.

(I'm tellin' my…)

Know who they is.

(yo word is born)

C.N.N.

network channel 10 it’s on again

Street niggas that’s grown men

Bold face gat in your face stay in your place

Yo crime-laced, catch more beef than Scarface (x2)

Court case illegal minds too late

Back in '92 (you remember Juice son?)

I bucked toast and got locked General Emanuel

Cell block cold crop

Go bagged up weak by cream cop

(FUCK THE WORLD) The way the world cold dissed me

Haile Selassie, Papi, locked with posse, call up Khadafi

Collect call from Arab Nazi, the Foul Mahdi

You relate in jail gate (what what, what what!)

Them new jacks they comin' through

Scared to death from the jail stories that’s true

You cold weak, live life on the street

While locked up, homoed out with pink sheets (bitch nigga!)

Discrete, in your cell, shook to sleep

I wiled out, no doubt, 'til the day I’m out

Me personally, (what!) I did three kid you weak

Your station in P. C

Outro:

Son fuck this jail shit so tell 'em about the streets son (echo)