Non-Phixion: Rock stars

"And now it's time bring out the headliner for the evening..." "Very Special... Please welcome to the stage..." (Goretex) Escape from New York, but I be on some Brooklyn bullshit I pull clips as fast as I dose chicks with ope tits Call me Necor, set the coke surviving the sticks Got my name all in your mouth like your liable to brick Click me on the tube, chain swinging down to my shoes Light up the room, african boom, spark it and zoom Disciple of rock, the type to range rifles and cops I'm spiteful, fake's get left shaking like Michael J. Fox (Ill Bill) ?? the age affected me through accupuncture Gangster and hustler murderer and kidnap a suspect Wrap her in ??, with Blood red to Crip blue My shit's to colorful, running through with a hundred goons and maniacs If a bitch like to suck dick, she a brainiac Bust up in they mouth piece, see how they react, take it back Like a instant replay, live in the PJ's, watching my Uncle freebase Analyzing the angles on a fiend's face I learn to love my trees lace, the way the PCP taste The way it make me see things, old school dice spot bills and sheep skins As I write, yes I'm rocking Iceberg jeans and Tims Thinking where I'm going be in 2007 Either a house in the Hamptons or a house in Heaven I be chillin on the beach in the South of Venice Or merking the President live on Channel 7 [Chorus: DJ Premier scratches] - repeat 2X "Coming through rocking" "Wild like Rockstars who smash guitars" (Inspectah Deck) "Non-Phixion" "Unadulterated" "Emcee's" (Sabac Red) I be Brooklyn till I die don't even question it twice My crew's nice, late night at the corners we shooting dice It's like, summertime in New York, jeans, shorts, tims, ?? Tanktops to roofies, groupies acting loosely Who'll be, in a black drop, with his hat cocked, that can't block Puff on the stove, get spit in snapshots I'm trying to live, feed the kids, drive some whips, handle biz Own a crib, do my shit, in the streets, that's how it is (Ill Bill) If I say Rockstar, I'm talking about rocking the mic My shit's hot like the rock fiend dropping a pipe These cats are idiots, with raps so pussy they catch period's I'm serious, my life is like a drug experience A porno movie with no plot and I'm the only guy in it Like Vivid video's with Kobe Tai dime bitches Ill Bill rap crusader, chilling in the black Navigator Canarsie to Pennsylvania "Wild..." "Like..." "Rock...Rockstars" "Who...Who smash guitars" Chorus 1x (Goretex) Break with me your out, bang you with shells and heaters out Blast off the terrorist, blow bombs and speakers out Hookers and bricks, gutter cats, bitches and pimps Cripples and Gimps, ex-cons, pushers and tricks Street poet, speak the essence, what's realer than this Up in the club smoked out coke, the feeling of Cris You lighting the wrist, Richard Simmons fro with a pick Taking my record label hostage if they stompin my shit (Sabac Red) I remember them cold nights and long lines for clubs Now it's strictly V.I.P., free drinks and drugs Pounds and hugs, getting back rubs, be them Underground thugs Stay street but got new found love, take a Continental, driver rental Travel the globe, Non Phixion to the end worldwide we rock shows Explode from out the projects, Glenwood to Drysneck Hold your drink up, and make a toast to how the gods get [Chorus] - 2x