(Drums Of Death Part 1)
  
   Styles like Al Pacino
   Reno until the carcelino
   The mad dino with the cambino, the gambino
   Digger than Jim COlisemo
   More reservoir dogs than Tarantino
   Scales for Venezuela, Brown as Ni O
   Making the block hotter than Jalepe OS
   G. Luciano
   Be wettin' shit like piesce in "Casino"
   Fifty dollar cigar seer
   The cosnia, the mafia
   Don P. like Garcia
   Drug Czar and the baby-Pah beater
   The M-8 behind the bar-freer
   The poughkenoughs, the panama skier
   Down with the parmesan
   Ready to comb like Vietnam with arms
   'Cause the hollow-points and phenomenon
   The cheddar-spreader
   The killer with the gold Carretta
   N-Leader
   The sweater-letter with the hollow letter
   Drama-setter
   The patmeretta gettin' redder kids and mamma
   Shredder
   Infra-red clow off the armour better
   The godfather, the problem solver
   Coming through with the 6 shell revolver
   Hot as lava
   Guns skills that reel and in the 'ville I be the barber
   Gangster saga, the motha-fuckin' face carver
  
   Drums of death hold your breath
   Give you a dose of shit that's dope as soda
   The underworld family cosa-nostra
   Pearl-handle inside the shoulder-holster
   G. Luciano with a click but nothin' but N-S & Chicanos
   You get hit up like Castrelano
   italiano like crime familia
   N- don't get familiar
   Me and my goons might have to kill you
   Up in New York
   We play bloodsports at home court
   And hold down forts
   Soon as ya caught, get your dome torched
   G Rap and Dj Shadow leave your bone squashed
   Squeeze the chrome short, take no shorts
   We judge and jury in the home court
   Give you the clown corpse dead on the sidewalk
   Surrounded by mad pedefors
   Your whole frame laid in the white chalk
   You got the smoking section
   First-class tickets to resurrection
   Forever destined to a place where N-S never rest in
   Headed in hell's direction
   Lost at the crossroads and intersection
   Should've wore a vest for chest protection
   Slug fill you to capacity, someone at the dance
   Someone with the hand velocity of Butch Cassidy
   Bitch N- with the audacity to blaspheme me
   Got yourself caught in a motha-fuckin' tragedy