Cremate Em - Shabazz the Disciple

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

Y’all know it’s hell when I come through

I cast spells with the Bellevue 1−2

And we can settle it with shells if you want to

Bump you, squeeze first I’mma haunt you

Or better yet I’ll let the gun butt lump you

Dog tail up ya ass when I confront you, faggot I’mma hunt you

Na’an nigga could collab' with me

Cause when I spit my sixteen, they get mad at me

Have them write their verses over tryna battle me

And nigga that’ll be a fatal tragedy

Shit, you better off shooting or stabbing me

Than stepping in this fucking rap ring and jab with me

Get ya weight up motherfucker, wear the belt and the crown

Frozen niggas like a dirty gat, I’m melting them down

Self in the ground, you fucking with a higher force

Niggas be sacrificed, you’ll die on a cross

Angel on the pale horse

Leave you with multiple wounds when they find you

Ya man’s comin right behind you

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes!

Y’all know the flow chops ridiculous

Taw like the blow niggas cop on St. Nicholas

You think I’m pussy motherfucker stick ya dick in this

Like Biggie said shit infected with syphilis

Gonorrhea, HIV, flow sick with this

Put a condom on ya mic tryna spit with this

Tryna get with this, I’mma hit with this

Make you slit ya wrist, y’all man a clitoris

Like chlamydia, hard to swallow, I burn throat

Getting rid of ya with hollows, you mob turncoats

Word to the safe in the ceiling

My flow’s like a burning punany, hit the clinic get the penicillin

You see the logo nigga «STD»

Fuck what you heard son, the best be me

From Red Hook, y’all niggas know how long we waited

Y’all motherfuckers, bout to get cremated

Put ya jewels up, put ya house up

Put ya tools up, nigga put ya spouse up

We can go at it motherfucker album budget for budget

And let your a&r judge it

Shit, I’ll have ya label push ya project back

Cause I get hyper than a fucking hypochondriac

Ain’t no responding back

My magnum mic’ll push ya conscience back

Give ya ass a holy spirit make you haunt the track

I, I blaze blaze gun gun sprays sprays

Leave ya whole record company in a daze daze

Tell ya ceo stop calling my house

Or the next fucking song son, I’m calling y’all out

Better prepare for the long awaited, finally made it

Y’all niggas bout to get cremated!!!