"NO MERCY"
FLESH-N-BONE featuring Fat Joe and Punisher

Fat Joe:
Yeah, real muthafuckin' gangstas all the way from New York to muthafuckin' Cleveland, terror squad, muthafuckas.

Flesh:
I'm (comin') to get ya, comin' to serve a brother.  Me fo'-fo' show no one mercy, but I'm off searchin' for those.  You're soon to be comin' up missin', get at your strip, and my niggas talkin' 'bout murder mo.  Keep me (?) on hydro, blunt flow, [but I take his shit, all of it] runnin' with all my thugsta niggas.  Better beware when I bail on the Clair.  Gravedig, wig splitter, put one in ya, to the woods to (?) your body.  Right (?) by the two of ya, tie the noose knot tight, but my niggas ain't fuckin' the (...?...), tell 'em not to bang.  Better believe we goin' to kill all the witness, so test Flesh, gotta put 'em in check every time.  Here we go march in at night, just picture me thuggin' in Cleveland, deep in the women, me and my green, come up with that team so we can put a lot of fiends in the ditch, bleed, better not sleep or you sleep with that deep, when I pap that chrome.  It'll be gone.  What you're fuckin' with?  The ever-rollin' Bone.  To the dome, you done.  Flesh-n-Bone off with the gun.  Quiet, so how'd they put him a casket?  Why is it niggas want violence?  I'll find him, no competition, listen, ammuntion, let 'em have it.  Can't outlast our Mo Thug niggas, smoke, now fiend me the bud to gets me buzzed.  So what if you hate me?  Keep to yourself or the haters catch a slug and never know what it was [was].

Punisher:
Here comes the pain, one in your brain frame.  Niggas is thinkin' this shit is a game, slip in a clip in the MAC.  Clack.  What's my name?  Big Pun.  Go for your guns, son.  Let's get it on.  My vest is on.  Protectin' home, it's only Flesh-n-Bone.

Flesh:
Think I'm a murder, light up a spliff, better think of sophisticated way to learn, imitators, it gets me (?) that niggas try to be like us but can't get the hang.  Bet I hurt the bustas at (?), they depend on us, suckas keep watchin'.  You better switch and get humble, keep our shit original, end up like a lot of niggas that droppin', glock-glock, double nina, infrared beam, now die in an instant flash.  Get rid of 'em, mister, (?) of 'em, yeah, try to flee and you'll meet your doom, killin' soon.  Your (?) get tossed to my great dane, they havin' (?) handy for supper, what' s worser, don't even want a nigga like me to go thick, what the hell, if you really want to suffer, stop pressin', and now what's the problem?  Niggas start the static.  Always with the silver revolver, bet I solve 'em, hollow point (?), cash and blast, get it told, didn't feel (?) with your soul.  Why murder and follow, but told you, should've slowed your roll for (?).  Here I go, here I go, proceedin' to murder, scribblin' hellified bloody scriptures.  When I sneaks the green, I come to the nigga, hear the fat lady sing.  It's your funeral, mister.  How would you picture the story and them haters endin', I'm forcin' the pain, bringin' the game to the table, and we able to bump off your label.  Mo props to (?) Mo Thug we brang, we brang, Mo Thug brang, we brang, Mo Thug brang.  I'm feelin' that lynchin' comin' to get you.  I'm feelin' that lynchin' comin' to get you.  Get out of line, niggas, we come to drop dimes.  Get out of line, niggas, we come to drop dimes.  Whoever didn't lynch 'em becomes wig split fools, wig split fools.  I'll pop and hit you with a millimeter glock, non-stop, with my favorite fuckin' tool, tool.  Kingpin and all of you sucka bustas prepare to lose, prepare to lose.  'Bout time for you ready to die, pow, pow, what am I?  Guess who.  So Flesh'll be waitin', anticipatin', (...?...) really don't want to fuck the Cleveland bosses, Cleveland bosses.  We done way past gold, even past platinum, done triple-doubled it.  Go look at the stats, can't stand a nigga sellin' hits quick.  Don't go lookin' for trouble.  If you dare you gonna stare down the barrel of a Mossy shotty.  Can't help ya.  Never could drop me, but I'm untouchable.  Look behind me, find Mo Thug thug posse.

Fat Joe:
For the right price, I put any (?) up on ice, so for a green card, terror squad will carve 'em up real nice, send 'em to Christ.  Takin' this life's not a problem.  I been robbin' niggas and pullin' triggers way before my album.  Drownin' my sorrows in bottles of Olde.  Anybody can go, lose your control, end up a John Doe.  You didn't know my shit was game tight.  The insane type to bust open your brain with a drain pipe.  It ain't right, but I don't give a uh, me and Punisher, contemplate your death like the governor.  A red dot to make your head hot.  Disgustin' wet spot, blood gushin' out your (?) dreadlocks.  Blowin' the spot like David Koresh, blazin' the sess with Wish, Biz, Layzie, Krayzie, and Flesh.

Punisher:
Here comes the pain, one in your brain frame.  Niggas is thinkin' this shit is a game, slip in a clip in the MAC.  Clack.  What's my name?  Big Pun.  Go for your guns, son.  Let's get it on.  My vest is on.  Protectin' home, it's only Flesh-n-Bone.

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"No Mercy" Lyrics
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