Artist: Dom Pachino f/ C-Tera, Shyheim Album: Gunz An Glory: A Soldier Story Song: Dead U Typed by: Cno Evil [Intro: C-Tera] Uh, it's S.I.N.Y., we gon' ride til we die So get high, muthafucka, uh And we don't play no games We take that Mossberg shit, put two in your brain, uh Yeah... C-Tera [C-Tera] All you new niggas is funny Slick rick chains and little money Wannabe gangstas, die like Sonny Wannabe Nino Browns, always snitch in the end I can see through you phonies, all ya'll do is pretend, dog Feel like a frog, well, nigga, then leap Had a forty bring you back to your feet, you winter deep You boxed in, nigga what the fuck you gon' do now When the barrel of my tre'pound go round and round See the light and hear a thunderous sound My face be the last thing you picture as you fall to the ground I'm back in the race, you out of it, I'm thorough acknowledging I only spit hollow tips that's loading the track Rip through your chest, exploding your back C-Tera, not afraid to react, Two said what's fucking with that It's like hypnotic when we mix it with 'Gnac It turn green, niggas ain't spitting fire, they blowing steam [Chorus: Shyheim] It's Napalm, Bottom Up, Bottom Up and Napalm It's Napalm, Bottom Up, Bottom Up and Napalm It's Napalm, Bottom Up, Bottom Up and Napalm It's Napalm, Napalm, Napalm, Bottom Up Bottom Up and Napalm, Napalm, Bottom Up Bottom Up and Napalm, Bottom Up and Napalm Bottom Up and Napalm, Napalm, Bottom Up Napalm, Napalm, Bottom Up [Shyheim] The club is packed and Bottom Up, they yelling These little nigga with me, do anything I tell 'em My chain swing and ring blinging, I'm chilling Dude try and think, and treat him like a verse and kill 'em Sticks and stones, may, break my bones, but That four-four long is always on me Shy don't hesitate I let 'em fly out the gate Like a Jet Blue plane, straight from JFK With the airplane landing at LAX Got on my Bottom Up sweats and my Napalm specs With two big ass, duffel bags in my hands I'm on the run, got my whole world in my hands I smash you cowards, I'll embarass you cowards I'll protect my net with Big L inside us Got the hunger of a bum, sleeping on a street corner I ain't talking bout coins, when I say I need quarters [Dom Pachino] I don't wanna talk too much, ya'll can hush it up Ya'll can put it in my face, I will touch it up Ya'll soft talking bout they too aggressive for us The way I spit, ya'll not impressive to us In God you trust, in the streets, the grain we trust I show ya'll what this rap shit do mean to us I'm a grown ass man, ya'll look like teens to us You bitch niggas I cock my shit back, ya'll look penises Don't make me, here, don't make me lean this kid And walk off, like I never ever seen this kid You talk shit? Know that I'm key to him I got power to wipe these niggas off the scene, my friend