Take Notice

Y'all think a nigga playing?
 Don't let me have to lace you up
 Verse 1: Guilty Simpson
 I'm jumping in the game head first
 and make the TEC jerk
 To cancel your network
 You feminine cats catch a bad one
 My gun gon' be there poking that ass with Magnums
 I spar with the best
 Just the first of my litter
 come see the scars on my chest
 We savage
 Ill style with extra static
 Before you talk shit, you better know the hearts of the niggas you walk with
 This ain't no slap on the wrist shit, this sick shit
 Homicidal energy, something to empty clips with
 Negative, gutter
 This is what you want, this is what you get
 Take it in the brain motherfucker
 This ain't no slap on the wrist shit, this sick shit
 Homicidal energy, something to empty clips with
 Negative, gutter
 This is what you want, this is what you get
 Take 'em in the brain motherfucker
 It's the filth, the flawn
 The flawn, the filth
 The nights with the pimps
 The cars
 The hard hitters, the giants
 Cats preparing for they last days like it's J2K
 But they way too late
 Wrap up a piece
 Ready to feast
 Maybe they'll save you a plate
 We out to take over your radio waves
 Nowadays I don't do it for the mics
 Cause they pay for them things
 Fucking up letting J in the game
 Wait to aim it and bang
 Guilt
 Yeah, and this ain't the slap on the wrist shit
 This big shit
 Somethin to smack a bitch with
 Givin' you what you want
 Twistin' it up to take it to the head motherfucker
 Verse 3: Guilty Simpson
 Extended families, my brotherhood
 Catch 'em in the face like a heavyweight with no guard
 Pardon me as I bogart
 I outthink the average, but equally savage
 Send the generals of your roster
 I send 'em back in a sack
 Murder minister counter reacts and launches attacks
 Ten branches, ten nooses
 Ten necks, ten TECs and ten shooters
 Black booters, late night intruders
 You ever seen a panther maneuver?
 I'm even smoother, guy
 You might lose your eye
 Either way you choose you die
 River rules, July the fourth
 Slidin' off and fire the horse
 .45 colt, niggas scatter from thunderous lightning bolts
 Rewrite your notes and recite them jokes
 You like to quote
 I ice your throat
 After that I'll slice your throat
 With the same razor use to slice the dope
 Not by me
 But I know those types of folks
 I never could put the firearm down
 That's why everything I do stresses Mom now
 Verse 4: J Dilla & Guilty Simpson
 First name J, Last name
 Deezy
 Here to change the game, playa, please believe me
 A cake boy 'til my heart stops pumping
 Mission complete when y'all niggas mouths stop runnin'
 Last name Simpson, the first name guilty
 Taking the game further than most of you niggas will be
 A dread-narc 'til my heart stops pumpin'
 Destined for greatness when these A&R stop frontin'