Intro/Chorus: (x6)



1 motherfuckin 2 motherfuckin 3

1 and here comes the 2 to the 3 and



Verse 1: Lakim Shabazz



???? rappers are full of this since I'm a Don I'm pullin out a hit

cos I'm fired up I'm tired of all the bullshit

Flavor Unit it's time to attack the prey

So make way for hip hop's green beret

Bring on the refills you see we feel

the name of the brain game is kill or be killed

I'm an expert, who will be the next jerk to try?

Let me explain you got 8 million ways to die

We torch and scorch ya, make ya feel real sore

Have that ass lookin just like *?this boo-boo?* slipped the door

Known to kill, dunk skills, e-rupt

You ask why? My reply is 'I don't give a fuck!'

I'm a Panther, I love fresh meat

After I kill ya, I'ma leave ya body across 110th Street

My tactics are drastic and real fast

I tie one to a truck and go drag ya ass

I'm more than a threat, I'm a problem

To hell with cotton, watch out when I come to Harlem

So don't whisper or make a sound or croak

Shit ya prop, go straight back down ya throat

Everyday all day this be the hard way

Puttin rappers outta commission even on an off-day

Flavor Unit rules G, we're takin rappers out

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Chorus (x3)



Verse 2: Apache



Here comes trouble and it's all that, in fact contact

You're next of kin, friend, follow the flow format

While you slip, I grips so expect to get bruised

Ask me if I give a fuck cos I ain't got shit to lose

Fuck around, lay around and get stuck up

You beatnit, wait a minute, hold the fuck up

If I was deaf, dumb, blind, stupid, blame

handicapped, crippled and "pussy" was my middle name

you couldn't beat me slick, snap that neck like a Chico stick

I know who beat'cha quick (who?), my grip

*?Failin this?* to some type of tournament

I cut ya fuckin head off and use it as a Christmas tree ornament

Come and give me a test whoever claims to be the best

He's with the 40-below footprint on his chest

Fucked up, got stuck, go press your luck

Both of his legs were found in back of a garbage truck

Head found in the bar of a limosuine

The rest of his body at a dove site in Queens

Damn man, Mr. Handman, you like braggin

Ya fucked up, made a wrong turn and entered the dragon

I told you I'm out to stalk,

Last nigga tried me, died G, felt my tomahawk

Apache, that's me, I'm gettin rappers' ass

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Chorus (x4)



Verse 3: Treach



You coulda been my main shit but you scrap and will wack, black

The only thing I smoke witta pipe is an ass crack

You challenge Treach, I'll seal you quick, you can't touch that

I thought you did a triple cos you said "Aw, fuck that!"

Diamond Hill how ya feel, *?hey Ben Hef?*

Give me a hearin aid or two then I'm thru cos I'm that def

That's how we all be, tighter than small leaves

Club rappin all be, I'm wreckin on all 3

This drill means chill, Guard Ya Grill, trouble

Is that your head or is your neck blowin a fuckin bubble?

A-B-C, skip to the S-T

U-V-W-X, fuck the Y-Z

Brand new, Brand Nubian, Grand Puba-in

Tape dem and cruise me then, if I'm wrong, sue me then

Wait let me hear another tune, tune me in

so I'm straight, if I hear "drop the bomb" I have to go

Break this nig' for anytime or any day, as many rhymes are played

Erase, forgive me not cos shit I'm hot, if I can get then you'll get got

Au contraire mon frere this is all my hair

I wouldn't cut it for the biggest butt-ocks out there

Put on a tip or hittin hips, I'm more than quick

I Grease my Lightnin', it's frightening how I get, a slick

schooled, dark, cool Sagittarian

Two types of marryin: very thick or very thin

Naughty By Nature and the Flavor U-N-I-T

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Chorus (x4)