No Shorts And No Sleep
[Hook]
I'm thinking mad deep
No shorts and no sleep
[Verse 1: 3rd Eye]
Now let me see now
Check it, it's about to get hectic
I'm ready to wreck it
Heck, can I kick it?
I want to get wicked with it
Hit it; I did it again, right back up in you
And you know I been through more drama than your mama
Why continue stepping to me? Who you be?
You can't see the booty
Like Hootie back in BBD video, he don't have the title
My style's homicidal, vital; you're better off trying to see the devil Bibles
I'm liable to hurt something, no fronting
And I don't be getting blunted, either
I get splifted, uplifted
Want to get a whiff, kid? You got to get it
And swift, kid, but don't risk it
You'll just get ripped and torn up
Slow up, you don't want to see me blow up; hold up
Word up, let me light the nerve up there
Oh no, now you geteing kicked to the curb, we 3rd Eye
And we back on a PMD track, believe that
See that; where's the mic at, black? Let me get that
Shouldn't have ever did that
Get back, black; I'm about to act up, Jack
Go rip the track, crack 'em up and tack 'em in
They can kick the flavor quick
Known dick, damn right I stick her
Get the bitch and hit ya
Make you run and get your gun
I ain't the one, son of a bitch
[Verse 2]
Baby, don't you know
Step into the duke of the residence
Meet my brake pence and not shelter the residents
Beside, inside is where I reside and
Where's 3rd Eye? Tell me, where are they hiding?
Word is bond, we like peas in a pod
Soaking up the sunlight in this garden called Hit Squad
And that's raw, now don't cross that
Or we'll have to send you back across the water
Please remember that
Flip his lid for the format
'Cept it's 95 and we ain't looking back, so
Just now hit me, analyze that
Shit's about to change, this my response for that
Where they at? Watch a killer with the same fact
Boy, you need to step back before you catch your rap attack lighter
For the race, cause you know you can't win
Your shit's paper thin -- lemme in, lemme in
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Top Quality]
And they was ready for those lyrics we brung back in the day
Couldn't comprehend the motions I've grown and tone to slay
Niggas that want to come sit my way, I won't play
Maybe catch you where you stay; I might, I took flight
When the sun went down, stars wild at night
Then the smoke reflect the moons on layers so with the light
That once got bedrocks, the tired of that knocks
Charlie plotting with the pens locked safe, give me my space
Damn bitch pulled out the mace, sprayed it up your face
Got 'em caught up in the first night stake
It's too late
In the zone, got 'em cutting for home
What would I tell ya on the cellular
Now his face welled up
All in the yuck from the stuff I stampede
Deep in the valley where some niggas roll deep, so don't sleep
Wake up, beep beep, beware
All that shit you're talking, kid, can't hear
Over there, right there
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Roland Harris]
I was known for slapping domes, blocking alpha like clutch
Break the state's escape, all these stupid motherfuckers
I'm slapping birdies, word G
Know you heard me
Filthy dirty rolling
Get that whole wig broken
I'm strolling through, plus I see weed
Make your coochie lips bleed
It's pure agony
None of these niggas is bagging me
Steaming circles from the corner
Kid, I warned ya
I'm on the path to smash that ass fast
There's no sleeping when I'm creeping
Get that nose skated into the street and just get peeping
While I'm keeping you screaming
Visions of incision, brain waves hectic
Vexed, infected
You get totally wrecked, so set it
You better just get that ass ready for the racks
So the road is sprawling
Calling out my name in effect
What the fuck is it you really saying?
I blasted once and caught bodies in a mass of dirty ones
Pop tops like soda
Flip flow north like Yoda
So heed us over the mounting typhoon or range rover
[Verse 5: Lavell Bass]
And it ain't over
As shit starts, smell the sparks
Niggas is screaming crab hearts
And duck these crazy red dots beaming
All is loose so all is lost
Crowds get caught up captive
We blast, we catch coroners cutting caskets
Automatics vaporizing mortal men
Thoughts with force and scorching scores of Holocaust
Of course 'cause it's the Hit Squad
It's raw
PMD, blast a path through the wasteland
Travelers, Zone 7 and the Aftermath
Kid, don't make plans
[Hook]
[Verse 6: PMD]
The frequency jammed, damn
Catch the backhand, scram
Record the funk that I swing the Tascam
Chrome microphone
Check me out, yo, in the end zone
7, 3rd Eye, TQ, PMD's home
Of the Hit Squad, representing hard
You can't see or trap me on your radar
So slip and get caught up in the death pit
Darkness nowhere, where the souls quit
Far from minding business, brothers on my diz-nick
More than equipped to bring it, so save the lip, kid
Hit Squad's in the house
Stay tuned for the drama, peace out
Gotta bounce