Oh No - The Wild Bunch lyrics

[Sample] I got the wild style Always been a foul child Represent to the fullest [Verse 1: Oh No] Yo A-Villa we way illa I'm like an uncaged gorilla, bananas peeled the k**a What my pen will tell ya, it ain't Penn & Teller The rain you will need Rihanna's umbrella When it came it's like a cyclone or a hurricane The perfect storm to integrate, you a fish bait I urinate all over your state, get it straight I infiltrate from what I illustrate, the illest traits Now watch me illuminate Across the globe ya'll ready know I turn into that Gettysburg get a show Yall get it from the get-go When my clique blow it's like a fo-fo Ya'll get low, hit the flo', I'm high while I'm gettin' dough Then I'll take ya ho to penetrate the hole Thickest with the flow, can't be touched with a 10 foot pole No, you must not know who you f**in' with The last man standing, n***a we run this sh** Run ya sh** Our city motherf**er I got that wild style, come f** around And get layed down, by the foulest child I'll spray 'em down [Sample] [Verse 2: Roc Marciano] Cut to the chase, bust up eighths amongst apes bu*tf** your date 'til the rubber break We duct-taped and oven-baked, covered in snakes Juggling weight where they blaze, f** a knuckle game Slugs bang buckle your frame left you underweight I let my nuts hang in my dungarees Wanna-be g's wish to be seen in these jeans The emblem on the specs read D & G k**in' defeat leave with a Shiela E Tender like veal meat, you hold your steel weak Mothers still weep I run up in freaks built like wildebeasts k** beats, MCs are grease-filled grief The day that you get k**ed we'll feast You feel at peace in a field of wheat I lick steel out the silver jeep Feel the heat, let familiar eat Techs we'll squeeze break your shield in three Just connect with me or you feel defeat I tuck the chrome three bill degree I got that wild style, come f** around And get layed down, by the foulest child I'll spray 'em down [Sample] [Verse 3: Sean Price] The best MC duke, you know that's I Sean Price, Mr. Music, Soul Child and I You ape, I rate best rapper in tri-state The other 47 states know that my rhyme great All real, ya'll n***as is fake lord I shake fake b**h-a** rappers on skateboards Get the f** out my face fam 'Fore I put my foot in your a** and f** up my Space Jams Shave grams to engrave the space ?? update your face Listen, n***a the banger buck n***as Fornicating with guns when I finger-f** triggers Top five alive I k** 'em with one verse Twistin' up your fingers, I k** you on son turf P, I give a clepto ?? Get fo' d**h blow fam, where your ?? at I'm a maniac, f**ing braniac