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Artist: 1.4.0. Productions f/ Molly-Q, Shawn Wigs
Album:  Staten Island Stand Up
Song:   Poisonous Poets
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Shawn Wigs]
We've been on the map, since Ghost two-toned the wallos
Staten Island, murder one, bullet heads with hollows
Wiganomics, you know I always come with bottles
I'm so fly, I slap big stones in my goggles
And my names engraved in the glass, I T.C.B.
Cuz money come first in the stash
Blow hash in a chocolate Dutch, you wanna brag
About your magic stick, I got the magic touch
These ice cold bitches melt down when in my clutch
Grab the hammer, run through the street with ill grammar
Work the, springs on your mattress, baby, I got stamina

Atlantic Ocean is my fish bowl, I got the globe
Robe and slippers, golden diamond district bitches
Dynamite slick, give a bitch a perfect figure
Gorilla dead arms, they call me Baby Magilla
The brilliant sport, complex rhyme deliver
Crime thriller suplex, under my pillow, two techs
To bust off, safety, streets tried to cage me
Blaze me, maybe, never thoughts running crazy
That's amazing, still can't catch me and I'm lazy
Playing with the purple haze, lady making babies
Paisley prints, couldn't see me throught the window tint
Only silhouettes, white widow and my cats is mid' now
Ain't that some shit, got my flick in your phone, bitch
Take it back, snapshots...

[Interlude: Sonny Bunz from 'Goodfellas' sample]
But I'm worried, I mean, I'm hearin all kinds of fuckin bad things
I mean, he's treating me like I'm a fuckin half a fag or somethin'
Im gonna wind up a lammest, I gotta go out on a fuckin lam
In order to get away from this guy? This ain't right, Paulie
I mean...

[Shawn Wigs]
Son, it's the Ruger, Mausberg verbal glock structure
Get out of line on my word, I'mma bust ya
Cuz I gracefully rap, I splenderly speak
I'm so modern, your style is so antique
And your chains all light in the ass, I rock a brick
With a showcase, nothing but stones in the glass
You all 'fast and furious', whole world curious
On how I be fucking with Ghost, why these birds just love me
Cuz I got a bag full of toast, and a pocket full of Ironmans
I done sold out the show, no seats in the stands
Fuck fans, we like family, drunk up in the wedding
But who the fuck got married, I just keep forgetting
Regardless, O take care of all my charges with the police
Cuz I ain't got time for the beast

Through my eyes, I seen weed, cars and cash, Gold Nugget
Apple essence assets and wine glasses
Cassius hate makers, my guns be the fastest
Snorting cocoa off car dash, my face on club passes
Enterprise splash a comeback, 45 King
Pin down the pending, matching M.C.F. ring
Never catch me in the sting, my name, rings a bell
Shame on empty shells, Brooklyn wiz expels
Walking out the building, on some, get money prowl
Fresh cut, classy kick, we Dutch and a chow
Modern day slingshot, pull sling on 'em
Golfcart, pound exchange, in a rained out Yankee gameball park

[Outro: Sonny Bunz (Paul Cicero) from 'Goodfellas' sample]
You know this fucking Tommy all your life, who knows better than you?
This cocksucker's an arch criminal
I mean, when I leave my house in the morning, before I get to the car
I'm looking over both shoulders, this is no way to live
You know I"m no fence jumper, I'm around you all my life
You tell me what I gotta do, whatever the fuck I got to do
I'm going to do, no? (What could I do?
If there was something I could do, don't you think I would do it?
You know me, I would like to help you out, Sonny)
Tell him what we talked about