Shadowboxing 2005 - CES Cru

I breaks it down, do my own thizzle

Kill beat and thug people each weekend

Godi changin' eye wear and dress changin'

Nelly’s hummin' go 'head try and sell me somethin'

Blowin' cash and, goin' out and fuckin' ass and gettin' smashed

Drink anything, hunh Hennessy, Cris, Mo and Captain

Now everybody talkin' bout their platinum, hmmm

Is you bustin' skill or is he flashin', hmmm

Talk about your cash flow

Heard about how you were loaded at your last show

Italian Stallion, chinky rhymes hot though

From the fat to the blubber on my big hoes

I keep it movin' know just what the fuck I’m doin'

Jack the RZA track, keepin' that you have to use a

Gat to get it back, the CES need necklaces, Cris, Glocks and jet-skis

Cross Vermouth and shit with Pepsi

You know my Steez

Company should merge with me

My logo on your lunchbox, most certainly

Go spin suckas, give me weed caught and phone crush ya

You don’t like it, dick up in ya fuck ya

I blazed emcees before I ever smoked trees

My style broke motherfuckin' backs like Chris Reeve

Most say Jason is loud and absurd

On some bullshit, Roger got 'em bitin' a curb

He’s the third general, Lucid, Perseph and the Sorceress

Swingin' broad swords and they use piles and corpses

Then it’s me, the one the haters can’t see

Once CES Cru breaks through unexpectedly

To bounce a check my sword still remains imperial

So after wake and bake I eat a few bowls of cereal

We reign all year 'round from June to June

My ninjas strike immediately if not soon

Brother lynchin, inform the execution date

As this 2000 beyond slang suffocate

Amplify samples through rappin' about depression

Call Jason to smoke about 20 nothin' less than

My rhymes start shit and get all splattery and nasty like hot liquid

This be that CES shit, I don’t give a cotton pickin'

Fuck about a brother grabbin' on his dick and nuts

I hold my own, my sight style be on the phone

Makin' sure that me and Dean got the hypest shows

No time to eat, forever weak like a Herringbone

I’m broke as fuck, never knowin' how the money goes

Ounces son, weed lover number one

From check to check, buyin' hella weed, Philly blunts

Dutchmasters, Garcia Y Vega wrappers

Split and burn bitch, bet I got have at work

Secret stashin' borrowin' my piggy’s hollow

Ish the puff, kiss the beard now full swallow

Drivin' Humvees, til the next episode

I’m bleachin' undies, hand on my butt-crack

It’s gettin' ugly, mad had to bring it back

Don’t understand a fact when it come to spinnin' wax

I don’t know to scratch real rap from the trap

Midi town, KC how to be exact

Break it down, all in together

Things are gettin' good, lookin' better now