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Artist: Children of the Corn
Album:  Children of the Corn: Collector's Edition
Song:   Don't Sleep
Typed by:

Bloodshed, Cam'ron
Aiyyo, knock, knock (Guess who)
Bloodshed to your rescue
I'm rougher than the projects that niggas don't move next to
My mental, sense is drenched from the Beck brew
Eye chinky like an oriental far from gentle

You'd rather douche B, before you mush me
Or even push me black, in fact I call you Kujo
Cause all y'all some pussy cats
Give me the gun, and watch this trooper spark it
Inside a moving target
Cause I be packing like the minions in the supermarkets

My style is massive, blunts never pass it
Stay blasted, Jurrasic type cash up the ass split
I'm mad sick, when shit get hectic, I wet shit
When my Tec spit, it's redrum cause I'm dyslexic
Out of my crew I am the loc'est one, so don't provoke the strung
Cause my smoking gun, will leave you choking son
I tell the truth, so you should all figure
My double four trigger's +Above The Law+ like that Segal nigga
And I'm a buddah head until I'm dead
And ain't no changing Bloodshed
Tough bread, enough said

Aiyo, check it out
It ain't no fool in rappin
Nigga play me, pull out the tool and clap him
I don't care if the kid's quadruple platinum
My peeps is deep, they deal coke
And when my steel smoke, you will choke
You feel dope, you won hundred barrels, and you still broke
You a joke loc, nothing but a slow poke
Your ass couldn't paddle in a row boat, you know ho
Let me tell you a few things, don't care who your crew brings
Cause when my trey-deuce sings, you get laced up like shoe strings
Nobody can touch my rhythm
My brother Hud'll get 'em, and I bring Blood to victims
when they get stuck like Stick'ems

Big L (Chorus) 2x
Aiyyo, my crew never fights fair
Cause it's your worse nightmare

Aiyyo, the K.O
Causes Mantle cancer, handles dancers
Who you'll, do y'all, Camel dancers
Sanadal lappers, get put inside ambulances
My gat is street team status, now up in Magazines
Heavy D fucked up my Black Coffee, gotta have that Cream

Mics I be tearing them, from here to Maryland
I'm known to bury men, and drug mics with more dope than Heroin
I clear the block like one time, plus streetsweepers combined
My gun rhymes make niggas wonder why I'm still unsigned

And never see me run, believe hun
It ain't no freebee son, go out with be-be guns
The niggas say "can we be chums?"

You must've went to the Wizard and got some heart
To fuck with Bloodshed, cause I spark with mints in the dark

And I'm the 'nnihilator
You couldn't figure me out with a calculator
You sweat like candy, I'll eat you Now or Later

I extort dough like broken phones
I'm on my smoking bones, and tokin chrome
To have you croaking with soaking domes

And when bitches see me, they run double fast
They have trouble, laugh, cause I make niggas mouths foam up like a bubblebath

On my block, niggas get licked quick
My man Caroni got his wig split
He could've signed but had no time for legit shit

You play like Punk rock, I catch like when the Funk drop
You a chump hopps, and I stun cops, whenever I let my trunk pop
And devour turbans, who's this coward hurtin
See me every hour flirting, with nine to wet niggas up like shower curtains

That goes to all the niggas faking the Jacks
I be like Jason, racing through your block with an axe
And I be chasin, til I meet your crew face to face then
the first nigga basin, I'm wastin, closed casing, nigga

Big L (Chorus) 4x

Aiyyo, my crew never fights fair


Cause it's your worse nightmare