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la coka nostra – get out of my way lyrics

get outta my way when i’m blasting my gun got 99 bullets but it only takes one got a chrome .45, a razor-shrap machete la c-ka nostra, the f-cking world ain’t ready. get outta my way when i’m blasting my gun got 99 bullets but it only takes one it’s murder in the first, pre-meditated la c-ka nostra, the f-cking haters hate it.

[verse 1: slaine] here comes the mighty ones they call whiteys this is cinematic but ain’t directed by spike lee it’s la c-ka, not fourty acres and a mule the corner hustlers want fourty quakers and a tool breaking all the rules with the hammers and the baggies since i moved to southie and my nanny used to nag me “do your homework, get off the street, read a book.” instead i rode around like, “f-ck it. i need a hook.” and you should see the looks that i get when i’m walking now you should see the respect i get when i’m talking, wow it’s like the whole world spun around throws out to undergound, i supposed everybody knows.

[verse 2: big left] yeah, the surgeon’s general, sergeant at arms black ops insurgant dropping hydrogen bombs recognicance salut, report a confirmed kill record a thirty millimeter grenade launcher mortar you weak mother f-ckers need to change your material serial kill m.c.’s diseased venereal imperial lord, f-cking big left’s a god capo regime, original head nod the all-american king of late night, letterman medicine for all of you head-poppin’ (?) razor bleed in your cheek, machine gun to the cheek jungle warfare, using the streets.

[verse 3: ill bill] my worst intentions like a terrorist with nuclear weapons it’s ill billion dollar bill and you’re a useless investment behind every great fortune is a shooter’s confession if only the long-nose dough continued to bless them, wet them my holy water stolen soviet automatics from odessa from street corners to borroughs it’s the extra special to these b-tches my d-ck is existencial p-rno director, let b-tches know if they have potentional la c-ka nostra, i walk around with the chrome toaster so c-ked that my nose is totally f-cking frozen, drug music like the c-ke rock my uncle would smoke got junkies doing the robot for bundles of dope.

[verse 4: everlast (a.k.a. mr. white)] i hear they don’t want to call it h-ll’s kitchen no more i swear hip hop got me looking at the front door i used to love her, now i want to smother when i see all the b-st-rd styles that she’s mothered f-ck the dalai lama, it’s the drama starter i’ll blow the spot like an al aksa martyr better lock up your guns, hide away your daughter keep the irish boy away from the fire water cause the fire water numbs the irish man’s pain and it’s the samurai druid from the highland plains like william wallace and michael collins beat you down, scream on you like i’m henry rollins.

- la coka nostra lyrics

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