Artist: T.M.F.
Album:  n/a
Song:   Straight 2 the Point
Typed by: Tha Masta

[Intro: Trife Da God (Kryme Life) {Tommy Whispers}]
Yeah! It's Trife Diesel! (Kryme Life)
T.M.F., Theodore {Tommy Whispers}
History in the makin', J-Love I see you {Word up}
(We gon' let the streets feel us on this one)
Staten Island to Queens (Nahmean?) Let's go!
{Every borough} All my live niggas
{Word up} Stand up! Let's go!
Gangsta right here.. aiyo aiyo

[Trife Da God]
First of all, you ain't worth to brawl
And my fifth call it the gift when I curse you all
See I'm a soldier, look at my ranks
We got that water bubblin' like we cookin' up Franks
It's Trife Diesel, get familiar with the name
I'm here to stay for a while so enstill it in ya brain
My gorillas'll bang, we are The Planet of the Apes
Clips as long as bananas, throw them hammers in ya face
There's a lot of niggas reppin' their squad
but most of these cowards out here ain't reppin' this hard
You don't squeeze lead, mothafucka you'se an E-head
and when it get to poppin' you get the runnin' like cheeseheads
Do anything in my power to keep my seeds fed
In other words, fuck what you heard I'm tryin' to see bread
And truthfully, par, ya songs don't move me
Funny niggas, y'all a bunch of D.L. Hughley's

[Chorus x2: Kryme Life (Trife Da God)]
We just wanna get Straight 2 the Point, right on the subject
(Most of y'all rappers is fraud, ya game is suspect)
It don't matter if you bust rhymes or bust Tec's
(cuz this year we gon' cause a lot of upsets)

[Tommy Whispers]
You want Rahmaddan? No eatin' when I'm out with my bomb
Never calm, when the NARC's swarm I jet to my mom's
Crack in my left palm, legs wobbley
Probably fit the description for last week's robbery, D's is on to me
My scheme is, the money first, where ever the fiends is
Demons the size of cheeze-it's 'til my CREAM gets
washed like dirty clothes, my team flips sturdy O's a week
Work gettin' off as I speak
I'm a hustler, that's word to Rich Porter's mother
Teach y'all mothafuckas how to bag and count grams
Stack that paper, I'll show you an ounce, man
Get off the couch, man, play the block with hot hands
Raw street, move ya feet as walkin' on hot sand
CopLand, not part of the plan, stay out my business
S.Q.S., don't need you playin' the witness
T.M.F., we all about gettin' them riches

[Chorus x2]

[Kryme Life]
When I bust I ain't holdin' my heat, son, I'm aimin' straight
The rush from me blowin' them trees up, it change my face
Slow down, homey, need to ease up and change ya pace
Comin' out the club all skiied up's a big mistake
Campfire's on and the beef's cookin'
I got the drop on them wisdom kids that's straight outta Brooklyn
In the whip lookin' like we on the crusades
Got ice flowin' through my vein and ya niggas is Kool-Aid
Listen, a little change'll get you laid
And have ya wig pushed back like it was the G2K
Now I've been, on the block for at least two days
Not sleepin', eyes pealed, ain't tryin' to see the precinct
Five mil' off a record, that'll be decent
and turn these haters into believers, with my achievements
Too long, they had me waitin' on the back burner
Now I'm ready to get it on with this black burner {*gun cocks*}