Lyrics of 'Parole Violaters' by Capone & Noreaga

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Parole Violaters is a song by Capone & Noreaga whose lyrics have countless searches, so we decided it deserves its place on this website, along with many other song lyrics that internet users want to know.

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Chorus: Havoc

Yo, parole violating fugitives on the run, son
Live by the gun, son, die by the gun, son
We can make it happen if we want to
Jakes'll get that ass quick if they really want you.

[Noreaga]
Capone, you stay on street, and keep the cipher complete
2 5 circle, caught you snitching now we hurt you
Fake Scarface, coming out your mouth all loose
He think he thugging it, ice mugging it
鈥楥ause he drugging it
My rap loop, I still shoot
Ask Iraq (Lefrak), you better bust back,
Keep it like that
Real fact - my life revolve around gat
The heat is god
Guard me, like bodyguard
TNT, ESPN, CNN
We each bring 10, stick em up and break wind
<?, little ?, he up in ?>
Pumps he rule, run through, yo god - you
I got God-U, for him and you
Greg Tate(asshole), leave his mouth taped
Eliminate, news on BET, got pictures of me
Killer ki, the F.B.I. scanned the blocks
Use photography, want me and my team out the country(stay low)
Kilargo, shipped the cargo, back to Vehardo
In P.R., kid I came home on my C R,
Crisis, 2-5-to, we rock ices,
Castro castrate, put the bogie out in his face
Leave him scraped, you fake nigga move fake
In Lefrak we regulate...what, what, what, buck-buck, what

[Havoc] Chorus

[Tradegy Khadafi]
Khadafi L-I-C, that ol' fly shit
Coming from the Bridge, Kuwait, do or die shit
Jose Luis and Iraq recognize it,
You get laced before the jakes realize it
Guerrilla form all in your dorm
Don't be surprised, kid,
Weak trick - go 鈥榟ead and snitch like your man did
War Report, cut ya life short
Babe Ruth niggas ain't ready for blood sport
Yo we masked up, pointing the heat
Duct taping her, gag her mouth so she can't scream
Start [raping her - backwards masked]
Camcorder, you won't miss it 鈥æ¦-ause we taping her...
Fed Ex, you got the tape next day in the mail
Now you organize your team with gats, ready to bail
But you 180, my reactions 360
You ass-betting, know where I'll be
So come get me
Khadafi, gun-play
Artie Clay, use illegal aid
Tryin to go to trial with the DA

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