Classic Verses (Drop It Heavy/Fantastic 4)

Yo, my squad is honored like Elijah Muhammad
 But I'm God-retarded, ain't no righteousness in this heart of violence
 Hard as diamond but I'm in the ruff, listen up
 If you ever see me with the Feds you can bet it's in the cuffs
 Ain't no snitch in us, bitch in us
 Unofficial-ness, everything we outside you wish you was
 Official thugs in the drug profession
 Drug connections, drug addictions
 Still seein the judge for drug possession
 The four-D's, all these is more reas'
 To either get big, or leave and let live
 We the best there is T.S., ain't nobody else
 We probably Dove, cause we all way on top of the shelf
 I'm lockin your wealth with the master keys, freeze
 Don't try to breeze, or I'ma squeeze and blast the back of your knees
 Just pass the cheese, please don't test the toaster
 My tech'll roast ya body faster than Ferrari's Testarossa
 You're gettin closer to death, Reaper's got a hold on your breath
 You goin straight to hell as you sell your soul for your flesh
 You was posin a threat, now you froze in the bed
 Minute ago, you was poppin shit, holdin ya dick
 Now what's the problem, you ain't nuttin like you said on your album
 I thought you was wildin bustin your guns and runnin the island
 You was't violent, you was silent tryin to get college credits
 How pathetic, did it to get out of the calisthetics
 My matureness is my insurance
 Kill my appearance, I'm a shinin spirit
 You gotta fear it, cause every last gem is poison
 You gotta cheer it, you can't win you better join em
 I'm head-annointin niggas like the Holy Gospel
 I'm the only vato loco to smoke you with fire-blowin nostrils
 Watch for the toast, when you see it, you better draw yours
 Warlords, callin The Giant, it's all yours
 Fuck all y'all non-believers; I roll with God, the Squad and T.S.
 Out with the B.S. we platinum, they even doubted Jesus
 Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid
 Brain-bolic with knowledge, cock-diesel scholars
 Holdin it down, walkin around with gold by the pound
 Frozen and drowned with diamond boulders all in the crown
 Talk of the town, soakin you down wit toast 'til you drown
 Ghost you and pound your corpse with a force that'll open the ground
 Save the jokes for the clowns, I'm on the serious tip
 You keep playin. and I get furious quick
 And now I take you for a walk through the ghetto
 Either spark your metal or get outlined in chalk by the devil
 I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit, I used to clap shit
 Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit
 I used to have to pack a mac in back of the Ac(ura)
 Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack
 It's like that, but don't think I won't counter act
 My niggaz is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back
 I'm swift with the mac, quicker than Kung Fu
 With the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose