Capture (Militia Pt. 3) (Explicit) - Gang Starr/Big Shug/Freddie Foxxx

'Give a ni**a pain'

'Listen to a brother who knows'

'Give a ni**a pain

'It's the real 'It's the real

First name vete last name ran

I drop bombs hit you with the curse of Jevron

Broken arms shattered glasses whipped asses

I advise you to tell us where the cash is

Itchy fingers cause nothing but gun fire

We disallow all these cats in the camp

We the champs not really to boast and brag

Bustin' heads body bags and toe tags

Black mags to blow your whole chest in half

If you don't know the equation then you can't do the math

I know you cram to understand the plan but you too

Caught up in the rapture front and we will capture

See men and strap ya cock back and blast ya

Blow up your f**kin' house while we still lookin' at ya

Militia man man part three

Put your money in the bank and hold rank

Give a ni**a pain

Listen to a brother who knows

I push these lyrics through any emcee

And make it burn

Put your money in the bank and hold rank

Give a ni**a pain

Listen to a brother who knows

It's the militia

Just to feed the babies I'll infect you like rabies

With a lust for the gravy you know the god must be crazy

I'm sick with it I'm built with stilts for you midgets

While you fidget you could get kill't for your digits

I'll creep on the low keep it a secret yo

I swore an oath to dump on you out the Jeep window

I don't care if you a geek or a thug you sleepin' on us

And you could catch it some royal heat from the snub

Since the streets is watchin' niggaz might see us often

We told you rap cats we would keep it poppin'

See all I got is a lot of bad news for y'all

You're gonna need more than a lot of tattoos on y'all

You got an army you still ain't got no wins against us

You're gonna need more than doo rags and Timb's against us

And f**k your goons 'cause we always get what we're after

We bought you this book of torture this one is Capture

Put your money in the bank and hold rank

Give a ni**a pain

Listen to a brother who knows

It's the militia

There's one ripped out the frame felony act

Everybody get the f**k up welcome me back

I'm the unseen hand that controls 200 niggaz

Parked while on the street out of unseen vans

I'm the law of the land the rawness of man

That'll show up on stage puffin' on contraband

Capture duct tape rapture slapped ya

Served up my Venus and Serenas cocked back

Clapped ya to Internet emcees I'm virus

I'm a warrior niggaz screamin' Bumpy shot Cyrus

I'm checked in to every hotel that you lay in

Niggaz come to my suite to pick up heat

Y'all know who wrote the bible in rap for keepin it real

Y'all know who buck fifty your face I'm keepin concealed

It's capture get out the truck I'm keepin' your wheels

You've 'cause you've got a gun you never conceal

I leave my hardcore demeanor in every rap arena

And underground club that I play in

I spit raw verses that y'all ain't sayin'

'Cause your soul was bought for what they payin'

You wanna have Bumpy's heart you got to have Bumpy's chest

I'll bust right 'till I find just Bumpy left

I'll bust mics 'till I have just enough breath

To take your heart it's thug grand death

CAPTURE