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    Hit the basa, 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