[Styles P] Holiday Styles Bitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck if I ain't gettin proper respect I don't care if you rap, I still spit
observe the art. Like a belly-acher won't kick face to the curb, rather kick when the face already raped by the worms. El-P Tasmanian pain coast, ridin
remain froze [Chorus x2] [Planetary] I was born to intensify your brain with skill My name is ill, P that's for the Pain you feel LA, for the Lyrics
: x2] They hide their eyes and can't describe what they been missing They fire-blind and can't describe what they been laying down They laying down [Drum section] [Chorus] [P
no spraya like the one I got claimin you juss a playa but the fakas I sock surround yo weave head fuckin wit the weave head get left wit p head I bet
with the cannon. Tell it to my mother fuckin cannon. From Philly to where I'm landin Ima cannon. And I'm on that Philly fire shit, Then I come fully
bold print, we holdin it downLick a shot, hip-hop when we in yo' townUhh, master blaster soundFreak the future far from here and nowWith style, release
I'm at it again Forever rockin forever poppin!!!! Criminal men with intention to win M.O.! Y'all know my pedigree I fire raps, I fire gats My em-pire fire
ready to die Why the fuck they frontin like they is? [Prodigy] Aiyyo Dunn, aiyyo yo You could catch P laid back, in triple black trucks Or catch him swingin pain
T-A-P-E for paper, D- King get real violent with terminators Determined haters gettin' wiped out by exterminators in German 'Gators, fully prepared for the perpetrators They try to fade us- My style
barrel flame 'til they brains get mushy East Coast Ghost Ain't no other rapper in the game that you know that plays the streets so close Still bring pain Fire
frame of mind Sorry, I hope what I'm sayin is fine We fuss but we take it one day at a time If there's a fire you know that she'd lay in the line
's going on here? Let go of that pencil get off no not my painting! [Evils] Idolize I send guys to where the fire lies. You hear the silent cries I flow
hot ones Fireballs flamin' out the mouth, lockin' your lungs Let me explain what the pain is about Oscar the Grouch, out the trashcan, Dead Presidents style