Artist: Deadly Venoms Album: Pretty Thugs Song: Black Out Typed by: Cno Evil [J-Boo] We gon' ride while it's hot ya'll, first blood Do or die, to the top, ya'll, you know I'm with it Spit bricks like a masonary, I masquerade So hold on tight, you headed for an escapade Intensive ride, any situation at hand Street knowledge, no game, only rock with my fam DV's to the death, never backing us down And if you think it's gangsta, come to my part of town You know the borough, QB never die But I'mma thug it out, so throw your V's in the sky And get high, blacking out on this track 20 parts more, so step the fuck back If your wack, keep that shit to a minimum Smack you with the mic, while the bass is killing 'em Murder murder, please on MC's like the wind I hear you knocking but I'm not letting you in It ain't the end, and if you blind, I'mma make you see Got you shook under pressure like you in the army So bitch please, you can never regulate this Have you running scared like that fucking Blair Witch It ain't a game, Venom #1 is the name I get my head right spitting venomous flame [Champ Diva] I'mma get Rah like Digga, Flipmodes like Squad, my nigga And Lord is my name, Champ from the Venom Get the picture? Venom #4, get raw Raw is war, now the war's on I'm like Rock from, WWF, if you can.. Smell what I'm cooking, then play the left I'm like the princess warrior of rap, Miss Van Damme, kicking ass on rights I'm like a runaway train, throw your ass off track for real Rocks the World like fam boy will still Spitting Venom in your vein, stopping all thoughts from going Through your brain, nigga, it ain't a game, it ain't a game Nigga, word up, the streets is watching You was popping, wherever there drama, it ain't no stopping Shorty but thug, this is for my thug, and what Oooh, get ya fingers out my butt Still on my shitlist, can I get a witness? Yeah, hitter, handle your business Now what? Venom, Venom, what what? Venom, Venom, what, what, what what? [Chorus: J-Boo] We gon' black out on this track, spit that 20 bars never coming wack, so step back Hold it down when the snakes attack, we run that Get that, rip that, Pretty Thugs, where you at? [N-Tyce] I ramble on the tar heel, peep dudes paying up my bar meal I can tell you how a hundred thousand dollar car feel But I don't brag on materialistics I rather rap about rubbing on grits and biscuits I think it's lame, sippin' on expensive champagne I sip the beer, and my buzz be the same thing I like draft, like #1 picks do Lyrically I blow like snot in tissue I keep it plain, not a fly nail and hair chick Yet and still, when I'm out, nigga stare quick Rock stage with no rehearsing, I'm known for flirting Chickens rap and every other word they cursing One thing for sure, two things for certain You think we look good on TV, wait til you see us in person I was nice before Madonna was 'like a virgin' This lucky star get you open like a surgeon You on minimum wage working long hours I get paid plenty while your songs in showers Cuz mine is our, satisfied with what I got, forget mansions and yachts It draws too much attention to cops I can take off my Polo, look fly in an Izod For most to do that, they gots to try hard Get ready, for the flavor, I'm the pitcher Look up N-Tyce in the dictionary, see my picture [Finesse] Yeah, somebody check me in, I'm bout to pin this nigga to the mat Take that, your dirty rat, don't be coming back WWF, what, what, Federation shit Sucking it, like DX Generation I'm more Vicious than Sid, split your wig Don't be fronting, here I come, ohh, like Hacksaw Jim Duggan Ready to warn ya, I thought I told ya I murder the master who taught ya, so enter torture Agony and tragedy, and I ain't even think about police bagging me New York Undercover, but I ain't Malik Yova Bend that ass into pretzel formation, yo, you took yoga? What the deal, how you feel, looking over, looking over you shoulder The cops be dropping boulders, snatch your money, fold up Well it give it up, turn it loose, dirty deuce We a hundred percent proof, Smirnoff people Out of cable, next time, we ain't soft More like them deadly chicks down to knock you off Take you to the roof, make you jump off To the last you lost, get off Who in the hell left the gate open? Chamel' of course Camouflaged out on the low, kids scoping you out Scoping you out, scoping you out [Chorus 2X]