Lyrics of 'Spectacular (feat. Lil' Vicious)' by Shyheim

Tune your voicebox up (yo, yo, yo..)
(yo, shyheim man, i think that nigga jealous when i seen him)
Twenty-seven warrant squad, wu-tang killa bee in here
(what's up? kill nigga with the ice cube)
(what it feel like?) yea, yea, yea (if i said, betta dust him)
I swear for real, that story's over son
(come murda with a straw) what? (indian) come on

Fresh off american airlines, first class-enger
You behind the curtain like the 57th passenger
Why you wackin up? faggot
Standin in the front and can't back it up
Me i'm spectacular, rock a avi' and a durag
And mack a fur, shorty with the phat ass
I'm splashin her, her man thinks he a thug cuz he in attica
She deep throated my piss without me asking her
Suck the blood out my dick like dracula
I cause a massacre

Don't miss the grym reaper
Blood'll run outta dem face and drip 'pon dem sneakas
Sick me knife ina dem chest, i still a ram it deepa
Absolute, foreva creepin through ya window
So me sing, melicious, sound bad like a freddie cruger
Attack some pussyhole wit me german luger
See me neva say somethin bout wha, attack dem youths out
Neva know me idolize castro from cuba

Bounty hunter wit gun 'pon me shoulder
Disrespect de killa song, and get told, uh
Shyheim, dem neva know murder-a
Have me gun, hafta ta shot dem, gunshot, move back dem

What's the verdict? guilty, how many times i've heard it
Shyheim should be locked down and murdered
I'm too dirty for detergent, so fuck tide
I bring the drama, ask your honor, my rap sheet rhymes
Queen, posession of a number, stabbin niggaz knives
Observation, direction sales, 20 dimes
B.i., take care of mines, and never wear slacks
Word to big l and sacks, y'all youngings'll get clapped
By this big pun, mad guns from the back of a ac'
Fuck the movies they at, on the screen i react
Parlay, where the trees at? burn somethin
Keep it dirty urine, pigeons say i'm fly, i reply
"who you tellin?", got so much game need my own cartridge
And an office, take 'em through a journey through my mental forest
Regardless, stay bombarded
To american express, ghetto game, i charge it

Keep it on dual lock, gangsta dem 'pon me gun
Be the police, gangsta, pack machine gun
Shot up, informer, put in mind daddy grown
Gangsta and dem guns spar it out
Where dem man? don't be shot me, dem can't say gangsta
Gangsta, don't bet, no baby soldier
So ya betta watch it and hear what me say
Got shyheim killin people in a week or day cuz

What the fuck, nigga?