John Blaze Lyrics by Fat Joe

John Blaze Lyrics

    Verse One: Nas

    My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence
    Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials
    Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal
    He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil
    Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, Catholics, preachers
    In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer
    In my own class, operation return, they tried to say
    I was incompetent, not able to learn
    The table turned now, got my own label to earn
    Like that nigga said in _Dead Presidents_, money to burn
    Queensbridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vet
    Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that
    I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest
    between Latin Kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in Spanish
    So many thugs vanish, unite the system
    to fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison

    Verse Two: Big Punisher

    My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die
    Just give me one try -- 'Now you know you done fucked up right?'
    Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa
    Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa
    I hate a actor that plays a rapper
    I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper
    Grand imperial college material insane criminal
    The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral
    I reign subliminal inside your visual
    Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical
    I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you
    Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you
    Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid
    out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter
    I'm even better than before, iller metaphors
    Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all

    Chorus: scratches by DJ Spinbad

    J-J-J-John Blaze
    Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze
    J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze
    "Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed!" --> Method Man

    Verse Three: Jadakiss

    Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around
    and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range
    Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame
    Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains
    Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim
    cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign
    Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya
    Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure
    Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for
    'Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up
    You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up
    Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show
    Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable
    Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans
    Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin

    Verse Four: Raekwon

    My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out
    Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out
    Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat
    in the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash
    The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear
    Strike me out God, stackin up joints, rack em like Footlocker
    This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent
    Here to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stall
    Relentless, the anthology consolidated
    with the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness
    Lex, imagination large, gold cards
    Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God
    Specialist, iciclist, Woolridge collar
    Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why
    broke niggaz who got heart God, sign em up
    Start the wind up, we John Blazin, Don up in the line up

    Chorus

    Verse Five: Fat Joe

    It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us
    Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers
    Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun
    Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn
    I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts
    for fuckin with my funds on the first
    And go to church like a mobster
    Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my Cuban partners
    Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot
    Run up on any block, disrespect any cop
    Used to run many spots, now I own shops
    Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop
    I'm hot, who wanna get burned?
    I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn
    You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day
    Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed

    Chorus 2X

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