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Dj Clue - Fantastic Four lyrics
DJ Clue: *with echo effect*
Fantastic Four: Cam'ron, Pun, Nore, Canibus
Cam'ron:
 >You never hear that we buckle
 Beef? We chuckle
 Scuffle over a game of pinochle 
 Anything up on my money, man, I gotta see double
 Unless you want trouble
 Oh, you realer now? 
 I'm the kind to cut a peace of soap, put it on the imbecile 
 Crack the Hen Rock style, give me the foul
 Girls grope then I smile
 That's when they fall cause they met my balls
 Right after I played ball
 No wash-up, no nothin'. Hear what I say y'all?
 O.K. y'all. Ask AJ y'all 
 I'll turn the baddest bitch gay y'all
 Like Stacy, damn, she was eatin' Tracy's ass
 At this other lady's pad
 To get it on I had to call up Desert Storm
 My cut-throats scar y'all, while you hope the Don fall
 But I'll come inside The Tunnel, nigga, wit Pope John Paul
 Yo, them niggas on the wall frontin', they ain't no harm y'all
 My crew'll break each shoulder
 I'm that nigga they talk about on Street Soldiers
 Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers
 We keep 2 bones and 2 phones in each Rover
 We all relaxed and any beef we over-reactin
 Peace to Lorey Actins, but I get buck wild like Corey Jackson
 Playin' is called off, cause y'all about to get hauled off
 Y'all all soft from smokin Nicholi (/nicks), nigga, like Volkof
 Know what I mean yo? Notice the cream grow
 I fiend though, I'll come fuck up your whole town like El Nino 
 I'm the hottest nigga you've seen though
 Jumpin outta Lex Coupe 
 With Jimmy Jones right next to me in the Benz Truck too
Big Pun:
 >Fuck all y'all non-believers
 I roll wit God, the squad & TS
 Out wit the B.S. 
 We platinum, they even doubted Jesus
 Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid
 Brainbolic wit knowledge, cock-diesel scholars
 Holdin' it down, walkin' around wit gold by the pound
 Frozen down wit diamond bolders all in the crown
 Talk of the town
 Soakin' you down wit the toast 'til you drown
 Ghost you and put your corpse in force that'll open the ground
 Save the jokes for the clowns
 I'm on a serious tip
 You keep playin' and I get furious quick
 And now I take you for a walk in the ghetto
 Even spark your metal and 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 mack in the 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 niggas is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back
 I'm swift with the mack, quicker than Kung Fu
 With the reflexes of a cat and the speed of a mongoose
Noreaga:
 …talk about huh? That's what we talk about thug shit ( 4x's
 )
 >Now it's a symphony
 Without me on it, it ain't a symphony
 My crew shit on cats without Tiffany
 N-O-R-E, I just lace the heat
 I don't complain about the track, give me any beat
 I get hed in the wip on any streetDj Clue - Fantastic Four - http://motolyrics.com/dj-clue/fantastic-four-lyrics.html
 I fuck wit Clue, other cats is snakes
 I've been fuckin' with Clue since he made 60 minute tapes
 We copped mad bottles and crushed many grapes
 We from the hood and they from the hood
 The difference is we get plaques, they go double wood
 Took the game right over at the time they could
 Them niggas silly though, knowin' Nore lay pretty low
 But them niggas is [ho]mos like the Maxwell video
 I got 2 albums and 2 cars
 Now bitches on my dick cause of Chico DeBarge
 Thugged Out's 1st lady (let's go half on a lady)
 Ya motherfuckers ain't live, don't control the streets
 I sold 163 thou[sand] on my 1st week
 That means I got more fans than you
 Bigger plans than you
 We buy real coke, your grams is blue
 Ai yo, the President is like me, he smoke weed too
 Don't really like to fuck, he just get hed too
 Stick a broom in your butt, tell you, "go head boo" 
 Thugged Out motherfuckers like the rest of the crew
 Canibus, Cam'ron and Punisher too
 And the beats are usually done by Duro and Clue
Canibus:
 >Who in the hell wanna battle, the ill mathematical?
 My motherfuckin' brain is IBM compatible
 Techniques are foreign 
 Far from being borin'
 My style is hard like cancer without McCorman
 I run threw your crew like the flu when I bomb it
 My styles like AIDS cause don't nobody want it
 Niggas frontin' like they hard 
 But I'm a Street Fighter like Jean Claude
 And I'll split your shit, god
 Right down the middle
 Play you like a riddle
 I got a fetish for titties, I nibble on the nipple
 Then trespass on your property like Monopoly
 Subdue your crew and beat that ass properly
 Welcome to the Desert Storm annual extravaganza
 Clue rolls deeper than the cart-rides on Bonanza
 I feed off weed, natural energy sources
 Lyrics with more power than the horses they put in Porches
 Can't be tested or F'ed wit
 I'm too reckless
 I chop off heads just to take the necklace
 The type of Canibus (/cannabis) that's side-effectless
 The type of shit that get the Question-mark Man arrested
 Take evasive action
 Flip like reciprocal fractions
 Turn the heat up on MCs to watch their meat blacken
 You try get fly, you get electrified and fried 
 Fuck around and get your mouth slapped dry
 You could battle me and possibly survive
 But you could never see me and walk away without a black eye
 Word up hop, CLUEminat call the cops
 And if the cops ain't tryin' to see me, then the cops call SWAT
 Scar your whole squad with bullet scars
 No holds barred
 I'll even hassle the National Guard
 Ready or not like the Fugees
 Crews be steppin' to me
 But I wipe em' all out like booty
 I'm so unruly, the police don't say nothin' to me
 It don't matter whether they on or off duty
 I murder you brutally when I spit at you
 My actions are unforgivable
 Look at what CLUEminati did to you
 The maximum lyrical
 Nigga you minimal
 There's a big hole in the desert, I told the men in blue to dig
 for you …
 Motherfucker...CLUEminati 98'
DJ Clue: *with echo effect*
Dj Clue…The Professional









