From: The Plague – “Gang Green”
Written by: Blitzkrieg, GMS, Kameel-Yen, PackFM, Pumpkinhead, Mecca, Substantial, Tonedeff
Produced by: PackFM
©2002

[Hook x 2]
We be the most high/
Most fly/
Most try/
Most die/
Why do cats think they can test?/
I don’t know why/
The plague mutha fucka so its curtains for you/
bringing nothing but a certified hurting to you/

[Blitz]
Ay yo hold up! (Blitz!) /
My cold flow’s killing you hoes/
In your extremities, fingers and toes/
No remedies for the illest mc’s, energy grows/
Fuck shows, rock penitentiary blocks and rows/
Don’t give a fuck about you chickens and crows/
I’m itching to throw, a chair into the air, hit you dead in the nose/
Bleed in your glass, getting red in the ‘mo,/
I said it be fo’/ you don’t even know/
These muthafukas ready to blow…

[GMS]
You don’t call shots/
When trouble comes you call cops/
I wish you’d all stop, fondling our balls and cocks/
Its scorching hot, your ass is facing hydra bout to bash your face in/
Told you it’s the plague muthafuckas, aint no vaccination/
Aint no cats replacing these cats it fascinating/
Captivating more than half the nation with the tracks were making/
The industry is faking, told us just to hand our tape in/
Had our asses waiting mad long now we crash our way in…..

[Kameel-yen]
I’m the epitome of fire spitting chick/
Glamour and glitz/ handle my shit/
Cameras click when I dismantle your click/
The most beautifulist thing when I stand on my whip/
Brandish lyrics that I chant with one hand on my hip/
Land in my pit and that’s it, you aint gon never climb out/
Kids don’t want it with kameel-yen put you on time-out/
Talk shit if you want don’t let me ever find out/
I shine like I’m at club New York with the nine out…...

[PackFM]
Your worst nightmares right here, don’t sleep, were gonna find you/
Blow your brains out, put em back in, just to remind you/
Standing clear is a wise move, go ask Confucius/
Try to battle and my tribe will make your breathing stop like Q-tip/
Saying we aint ruthless? What you talking about?/
Life’s a bitch, and were all fucking yours in the mouth/
Your dry causing a drought, my rhymes cause catastrophe/
I’m calling you out trying to gas me with your voice all raspy when…

[Mecca]
You sassy/
Trying to match heat, with my crash fleet/
We smash beef, burn your fams tree to the last leaf/
Last chief who camp to scalp? Buck-fifty face lift/
Smacked tasteless, gorilla stomped, so you hate this/
Its great risk, trying to step to nine lives who slay quick/
With plague shit/ quick to make careers sound make shift/
Break wrist, you can’t grip a mic of such greatness/
You stay pissed, don’t cry here, clear the way bitch!

[Pumpkinhead]
It’s that dynamic gigantic, savage that manage/
To bandage the industry with classic raps and ad-libs/
Your an average fagot who just came out the cabinet/
Claustrophobic panic/
Manic depressant medicine addict/
Who needs better mechanics, instead of theatrics/
I’ll crack you ceramic fabric/
(Who are you?)
I’m well known just got a celly phone/
Pumpkinhead spit sick shit to make your belly moan…..

[CUTS]

[Hook x 2]
We be the most high/
Most fly/
Most try/
Most die/
Why do cats think they can test? /
I don’t know why/
The plague mutha fucka so its curtains for you/
bringing nothing but a certified hurting to you/

[Substantial]
An abundant amount of substance/
So so you don’t fuck with dumb shit/
their hundreds of fam and cousins that I run with gotta love it/
cuz i’m true to them, thoughts leave the mind start exiting/
(huh huh huh) know there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for them/
my rhymes are far from common, i’m a sun god older wisdom/
and my peeps revolve around me so the plagues a solar system/
chocking victims with no convictions can hold my fam back/
the plague and I are spreading so just call me stanthrax.

[Tonedeff]
And that’s the reason I figured I’d make an appearance/
I’m here to severely sear your hearing,
so many curves it interferes with your steering/
Clearing the way for the viral decay,
and I’m shearing away at the sneer on your face
At a furious pace/
If you jeer in dismay, you’ll be tearing in pain
till you’re fearing the Plague/
And revering our place in history
Setup for destiny
this’ll be our seminal ‘symphony’/
Given to me – the mic’ll be a symbol of victory, and that’s
Whenever the T-o-n-e hits the beat
Simply put: We’re sticking the hook into your foot – So when your crew steps, the flu sets/
And you get tainted/
It’s plain as day, The strain is The Plague, bitch!