Verse One: Nas      My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence   Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials   Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal   He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil   Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, Catholics, preachers   In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer   In my own class, operation return, they tried to say   I was incompetent, not able to learn   The table turned now, got my own label to earn   Like that nigga said in _Dead Presidents_, money to burn   Queensbridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vet   Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that   I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest   between Latin Kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in Spanish   So many thugs vanish, unite the system   to fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison      Verse Two: Big Punisher      My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die   Just give me one try -- 'Now you know you done fucked up right?'   Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa   Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa   I hate a actor that plays a rapper   I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper   Grand imperial college material insane criminal   The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral   I reign subliminal inside your visual   Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical   I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you   Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you   Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid   out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter   I'm even better than before, iller metaphors   Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all      Chorus: scratches by DJ Spinbad      J-J-J-John Blaze   Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze   J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze   "Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed!" --> Method Man      Verse Three: Jadakiss      Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around   and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range   Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame   Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains   Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim   cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign   Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya   Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure   Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for   'Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up   You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up   Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show   Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable   Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans   Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin      Verse Four: Raekwon      My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out   Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out   Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat   in the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash   The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear   Strike me out God, stackin up joints, rack em like Footlocker   This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent   Here to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stall   Relentless, the anthology consolidated   with the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness   Lex, imagination large, gold cards   Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God   Specialist, iciclist, Woolridge collar   Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why   broke niggaz who got heart God, sign em up   Start the wind up, we John Blazin, Don up in the line up      Chorus      Verse Five: Fat Joe      It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us   Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers   Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun   Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn   I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts   for fuckin with my funds on the first   And go to church like a mobster   Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my Cuban partners   Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot   Run up on any block, disrespect any cop   Used to run many spots, now I own shops   Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop   I'm hot, who wanna get burned?   I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn   You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day   Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed      Chorus 2X