I deal out physical justice and actual facts I keep my steelo hidden like a junkie's tracks But if I roll up my sleeves, you wouldn't believe The depth of the deviance that I can conceive I overachieve, I'm underrated, I've got you under pressure The biters wanna bite it, the haters wanna hate it Got on stage at your show and I defecated Every rhyme I spit is the ultimate Truth from the pulpit, let's cut the bullshit It's fucking coka taking over The wrath of jehova's like a supernova Amazing grace, how sweet the sound I pull out my sword and I cut you down The wrath of the lord's what I'm bringing 'round Pay heed, take warning when you hear the sound I represent what it means to be true to the game (I wish light woulda holla to do to your brain?) They call me mr. White, ain't a more suitable name La coka nostra, it's a beautiful thing My competition's presentation is so damn weak I'm all knowing with ak's like mozambique So gangster when I creep up Pull a trigger, eagle buck, we don't give a fuck Even Jesus is leaking blood From a distance you might wonder what he's seizuring from But on closer inspection you see it's the heat from the gun That's making his body rise, homicide, I'm a ride Like the cyclone at coney island when it's drama time Ill bill, I'm a product of the projects, my conduct: Complex I like hot sluts that suck my dick I'm multi-faceted, a real deep individual Limited to new pussy, new cars and new pistols too This is who I am, you wonder how I kill a man Millions of fans relate to la coka nostra We stand for honour amongst hustlers, pimps, and thieves A federation of terror in at war with the beast I represent what it means to be true to the game (I wish light woulda holla to do to your brain?) It's billy crystal, ain't a more suitable name La coka nostra, it's a beautiful thing [Verse 3: Slaine] (verse almost impossible to understand) They call me fucking johnny hustle with this knuckle Puffin' gnarly with the muffle Mumble, saying nothing Everybody hottie, snotty-nosed hoes Totally out of her skull so My timbos, powder white, outta sight Knuckle brashed as a baby I don't even gotta fight My teams high, we blast for funds The whole world revolves around cash and guns Dms villains, the coke and the 'dro smoker And poke holes in your whole soldier From the brokenest cold sofa To dough and mo's with chauffeurs You should know already now cause I told most of ya's We bullshit with micks, kykes, cooks, and spics It's a cold world with ruthlessness So let the lies lay six deep, the truth is this I represent what it means to be true to the game (I wish light woulda holla to do to your brain?) They call me slaine, ain't a more suitable name La coka nostra, it's a beautiful thing
