Terror Death Camp

Statik Selektah
 Queens, New York
 Flushing shit
 (We backkkk againnnnn)
 That's right
 Yo
 Sour smoke out the nasal
 The Pad Thai noodle topped off with basil
 Sistine Chapel rapper, I'm here to blaze you
 Pop off material, get laid up n sprayed up just like arterial
 Clementine nine, dripping venereal
 Linguine linguistics that left my verbal lesson saucy
 Send a message, leave you sleeping next to headless horsey
 Play the plaintiff, I'mma slide off to prior engagements
 Let you die in the basement/Toast wine from the time of the ancient-
 Turkish warriors, cobblestones in Macedonia
 Albanians in Shkup... never living by the book
 We fill the jails in France, Uzes and Italy
 Never do dirt in our own land
 That shit's forbidden, G
 Hoxha singing from the top of the Xhamia
 Pickled peppers at the picnic table
 Feta cheese, perfect Flia
 Straight outta Dukagjin
 One of the illest places
 No one's smiling
 There's only drunken men with killer faces
 -Meyhem Lauren-
 I'm known for simmering the mean gravy
 Gleam crazy, my mind's hazy
 New York made me
 The most official, to holster pistol
 Trim the fat, scrape the gristle
 Meyhem Lauren will make your family miss you
 I'll gladly press the trigger button
 If you press an issue
 Whether it's beef or beats
 I try to make a casket fit you
 We'll fuck you up then fuck you up
 And then come back to get you
 And do that two more times
 We call that shit a triple triple
 My flow is typhoon rap, it's deeper than an ocean ripple
 Our hollow tips will hit you
 Leave you with an altered nipple
 Slumped over saying "Lord, please have mercy"
 Or play the G, now we made hot flames burst me
 Queens veteran, dressed like tennis men
 Back block medicine, slap chop venison
 Knock, knock, let us in
 My whole clique's equipped to shoot though
 My army got more fucking arms than a can of pulpo
 -Maffew Ragazino-
 Brownsville's Jesus, white and blue Adidas
 Got more knowledge than them Poor Righteous Teachers
 Clarence Smith, Stan Smith, 13X's
 Some will overstand but common men never receive the message
 Concepts like I'm Frank Butcher
 Neighborhood pusher, 62's through ya sub woofer
 Unca nunca for the pitbulls with red noses
 Wet bogies dipped in shit to stop bodies from decomposing
 Cool, calm and collected
 Keep my composure
 All my business in black and white like negative exposures
 Keep a Polaroid for the posers
 A picture's worth a thousand words
 So lock and load up
 You don't know me from a hole in a commode, bruh
 I am the shit, just ask your bitch
 I bet she know, yup
 It's St. Maffew
 Truffles in that duffle
 Princess in the catsuit
 -AG Da ner-
 This is dope fiend rap
 Have a nigga leaning sideways
 Frankie Blue Eye shit
 I do it my way
 Legendary, scary, February Valentine murder
 Ike Turner, gun butt with a nice burner
 Bluey spot guzzler
 Long Island Tea sipper
 Mind of a killer
 Trenchcoat Mafia nigga
 Hollow point slinger
 Smile while I'm flipping fingers
 Angels and demons
 Mellowed out, Stylistic singer
 Corner store postup
 Backstreet wanderer
 Butter your toast up
 Tight pussy conqueror
 Smart aleck, talk back, type of nigga
 Fuck you
 Disrespect your mother, your brother
 Father and son, too (everybody!)
 Long live the music cause it's part of my blood
 But how long can I stay breathing
 Only God is my judge
 Through the lights, cameras and action
 Glammer, glitters and gold
 Every legend repping my era
 Carries part of my soul
 (90's, nigga)