Song parody of

Madina Passage

by John Forté

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[Chorus] This town is too small for all y'all Where the streets are meaner This one's for everybody! This one's for everybody! [Forte] Pikasoe meets Baracus! [Verse 1: 20 Grand Pikasoe] This world is messed up So I lay back, and smoke a yeshca (?) Till it burn my chest up, I'm stressed up From my toes, to my neck up It's all out, I seen niggas cook up In a small house, with the dogs out I know all about it, drugs, money, sex, even where the whores are routed Nothings too small to doubt it The wolves feed upon us, so we walk the streets with honor Looking for heat that launches six shots and eat you harder [Baracus] We want acres of land, so we can plant our own weed crops 52 states, we want green gaze and tree spots We want the better life, the mo' better cheddar life I was a young thug when my momma threw me out Starvin' on the streets, the gods putting food in my mouth Taught me how to read and count Cook up coke, cut up dope and how to bag an ounce Me and my family coming to rob America blind, thugging since '89! [Chorus] [Verse 2: Forte'] Yours truly, El Capitan I don't small talk, y'all all walk We turn half them cats up into dodgers, like the ballpark Five-O drop charges, apply pressure the hardest, more than Japanese massages You need us, to roll mo' Cruise to homogenus You didn't list where you from, we Madinas You niggas speak on dough with no conception of what green is Momma Sheena's how homes get bought, vis-a-vis the Dow Jones y'all rappers stuck on cow clones, like two tones We'll never match boss, at the cost, I'll fuck around and rip the patch off! My bitch's god-sent, my yacht-men, bigup to cassette At every soundset, I iron butts off, leaving the ground wet y'all walking like you safe, you ain't out of town yet! It's for the inner-city block sitters, the glock spitters Niggas who used to pop - locks, and cops that want to rock wit' us You want to hear this like you dumb guys? Yo, hi! Most niggas is students to this, we alumni's! [Chorus] [Forte'] Nikki gunz, meets Casino Red [Verse 3: St. Nikolas] Murderous, Brooklyn burglars, black rosary Known for making Scott flees out of black hosery Do dirt, pull it over my face so you don't notice me Black Jesus, rockin' black cheeses Nikki Bonadon, grown scorpion Travel on, trying to go platinum, in Brook-lawn! Shook ones, can't hold guns, better hold your tongue And grab a hang of this hear, out for the C.R.E.A.M. this year So light your clip, filled with rose hips to smoke it! [Casino Red] On Madina streets, Casino Red, Casino The Dread Roc-A-Feds of Brook-Lawn Crooks run out of the dead, bloodshed Bloody red rags and dog tags, automags flossed by cats In this game, put shine up for grabs I'm talking showtime, Madenic rhyme, high-crime rates escalate So play for high stakes, chasin' money and guns it must be my fate So keep the ones where they're safe! [Chorus] [Forte'] El Harim, daddy goes [Verse 4: El Harim] Disobeying all stops, word to my pops Do dirt and blame it on cops Red dot, aiming on cops Throw a drop, with the beast eight Release eight They hang the traitor body at the east gate I'm now a legitimate suspect Studying e-straight He can't breathe proper, 'cause he eat steak Shit can fuckin', fuckin' blow a beast 'way Man rolls, come to blow up east state My voice, echo through the valley The tec flow, through the valley Boom and bam Hear my voice echo through the valley! Rose raise dead, from New York to Cali. I know you never heard a undefined priest capable of murder Whodini stylesque, escape a murder Got twice on the cross, now I rock ice on the cross Escape the death plot, it wasn't Christ on the cross! [Chorus: Repeats]

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Madina Passage

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