"Spanish Fly" as written by and Robert Ross Patrick Leonard....
[Black Rob]
Yo, look, clown, I come through to put it down
Keep thinkin' that you hard; take a look around
I got soldiers stationed up to bring pain
And when it go down, my hos do the same thing
We all in the same game; we all willin' to bang
Ain't nobody going against the grain, so take aim
B.R.'s evasive; cut all the faces; catch all the cases; this real
You rather bet 'cha life than face me
I mean, I got this rap game locked with more cake than Tastee
Black the feindest
The title I hold I won't relinquish
And this type shit you should distinguish
And one phone call, and I'll extinquish
I mean this; you seen this
Blue steel fo'fo'; the caliber - Excalibur
I'm a destroy my next challenger
B. Rob, high post emcee
Quick to spray Raid on the roach emcee
So don't be apporachin' me without the cross and rosary
Who this nigga 'pose to be?
I blast him in the open beef
Damn, Black, how you do that der?
'Cause we don't care
I'll take 'em there

[Chorus]
Last night, I dreamed of some more dough
Some crystal, sixty thousand, and ten dimes of 'dro
(I'll take 'em there)
That's when I realized I'm dreaming
Too late now
Guess I'll finish what I started, baby

[Black Rob]
Y'all niggas heard the first verse; no doubt shit bangin'
Verse two make sure none of y'all left hangin'
Got honnies lovin' this shit too; girl, I'm wit' chu
Long as you know my pants don't fit chu
Money good look; understand why he shook
Shit, I'm rich; face all up in the Guinness Book
Check all the records I set; it's major
Check that the sets I wreck with flavor
Fuck that Cajun; guns stay bond cock
Boiling hot; hold shit down like Fort Knox
Man, knock the rhyme unorthodox
What'cha barely understand, shit, I did with the L.O.X.
Give me the props; I'm tryin' set a mark this year
And bring the equipment out to the parks this year
So y'all could see how it used to be
I'm lookin' towards the future, see
Black here to stay
It's time y'all got used to me
Puff said Black ain't tryin' to fit in
Up and down the coast; can't count the spots I've been in
Put'cha bid in

[Chorus]

[Black Rob]
I hit arenas, swinging notice if my name was Teddy Pender
Hot beats and hot rhymes tossed in a blenda'
I want ch'all to feel hardcore; nothin tenda'
Blessed this mic for as long as I remember
Y'all can't see the Rob
Uh-uh, y'all must be stupid
If I owe Sean Combs any money, then I recouped it
I looped it; this fly shit from Nebodaga
Me, and Yogi, and Hard Pierre from You don't Know Me
I dare you to come against me, run against me
Use your gun against me
You finito, finished
I've seen wild cats diminished, foldin' for
Bad Boy's known to ball
Internationally, I'm sayin' actually
I have to be the next cat to go and sell a million records casually
So, prepare yourself for the storm
Nineteen-nine-nine, it's on
And I'm just gettin' warm

[Chorus]


Lyrics submitted by spliphstar

"Spanish Fly" as written by Robert Ross Patrick Leonard

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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