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 I 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
