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Artist: Phil Anastasia f/ Dr. Ama, Lounge Lo, Raekwon
Album:  The Outfit LP
Song:   P Knuckles
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Dr. Ama]
Third eye saw it coming, niggas down the block came gunning
Hating, mistaken if they think we was running
Whatever the beef, in the streets, kept it a hundred
Pull the thing, bang it, hit scrams in the stomach
Retreat? Not an option to me, pussy?
Not an option to be, steady popping the heat
My team, move like the regime of the surgeons
Urgently emerging, out of nowhere, guns bursting
Yessir, yessir, we all about it
Extra, extra, read all about it
Us lose to ya'll? Yeah, right, I doubt it
Son came for war, but his life left without it
You know the slang, go against the grain, bad move
Doc Ama, mentally insane, bad news
You know them things split a nigga brains, blood ooze
You lose, cuz we got the Broad Street blues
We take off, the HD's come, the scene taped off
Thugs rather play soft, then pitch my apes off
Niggas play Superman, I shoot ya cape off
Pistol whip 'em, break jaws, scrape ya'll that break north

[Lounge Lo]
Yo, what up rude boys? (Rude boys), I know some cool boys
Run around and bust shit down, with train like tool toys
Break bread got the heart pumping
Sit back and blow a bean of the purple, and then I start something
Tell Doc Ama to fart something, cuz we the shit
Told ya'll niggas before, that we was in this bitch
If not the booth, then the block with fifty eights
The stoupe stay warm with a glock and fifty apes
It's life or death like Notorious Biggie tape
I still perp on foot like a hundred and 20 jakes
I'm money great, my money scrape, my honey good
Transport out of New York, yeah, my honey would
She on the Greyhound, riding with eight pounds
A stop on the bus, walked on by eight clocks
I'm Staten Island, so you know how I talk now
And it ain't no street, that the beef can't walk down

Yessa yessa my lord...
My team thorough soldiers, we call 'em borough tho-diers
They in the south, blessed, mid-west, my niggas holding
Grip counting niggas, mint counting niggas
Every three minutes, we spit, hold it down, my niggas
It's all about hustle, fly cars, jewelry on my niggas necks
If you that live, then touch 'em, yo
I dare a nigga like you, one in your ear, I wipe you
Off the map, you'll get slapped with your white boo
I'm in the fly renter, plus I'm a representer
From Killah Hills, where it's real, this is my agenda
Shallah, what you baking? You got coke up on the stove
Keep it real with me, I'm working on the Purple Tape shit
I got you little nigga, here's a riddle, nigga
Who's large and only ten billion, that's a...

[Phil Anastasia]
Stop the track, action packed, working names rapper, with rock flavor
Form escape order, ex-druggie, hip hop flavor
Heavy boozer with a short fuse, my temper melts glaciers
Raise you off the floor like George Foreman did Frazier
Carnage to Anastasia, not a major switch
Coming with my government, but still running in your bitch
L-A-B and Beez Mode, peep which way ya'll go
Doc locks shit, then Just say 'heya ho'
We seen this artform fading, hate the way that way
About to leave my mark in this game, and make that dent
Me and my man Rahsaan, kicking shit like Van Damme
Without the ballet training or the gay accent
Bubbling, below the surface, watch when I burst my curses
To speak truth in the booth, that's why it hurts
Beneath this Outfit's, more than flesh, just an idea
And ideas are bulletproof, like Dyverse
When the operative's dispurse, shed a tear
As you watch your weak ass career get hauled off in a herse
Leaping from the frying pan to the fire, claim you trying to teach me
About the leechers and the liars, save it man, you preaching to the choir