My Alias - N.O.R.E., Capone-N-Noreaga

Carhartt dungarees;

it’s estimated that my mind elevated

Organized crime related

Bam Bam Bigelow, I’m not a gigolo

More like a general, chef like Emeril (look it up)

Panama Canal shipment, distributed to Dominican Republic

Republicans’ll love it

Democrat, Arafat, Madoff

And we don’t take a day off

We lay off and spray off

Meditate, Indian-style, knees bent

Throw grenades at the precinct, and I’m talking recent

Doing donuts on the highway in a Tahoe

Cash flow, I go

Jefe, muchacho

Hermano, Italiano, horizontal, Verrazano, old wino

Speak wisdom when we kicking it

I sit back and listen, it

Effect me magnificent, I’m different

See, I prefer that you call me by my alias

Nickname change at times, various

Girls curious, bi-coastal

Like a toaster, we toast you

Swift when we approach you

Niggas warned me, they informed me

Jakes swarm me, they straight storm me, they all on me

CNN tradition when them bodies go missing

Anybody get it -- Muslim, Jew, or Christian

Your honor, I was taught to move the onions

It’s just what I learned from OG’s as a young’un

It don’t mean that I’m a bad person

My Tec-9 got hiccups, it do mad burping

Shootouts, niggas is mad heartless

Them automatics and targets

Be the topic of discussion for the bloggers

And the robbers and the slingers

Muslim and Catholic, the non-religious

They recite every rhyme like holy scriptures

Consiglieres you might fear

White Airs looking like coke in heaven

You wanted it, we right here

We beat charges like Roethlisberger, paid attorneys

No witnesses, DA want to burn me

From the home of broken dreams and coke babies, it’s so crazy

They blow eighties, a body and a shell drop

Ricochet bullet hit shorty neck in the nail shop

The morgue is ice cold, but the corners is real hot

Non-stop observation, hustling’s my occupation

Give me a few ki’s, I’ll show you how to lock the nation

Queens House criminal, OG kush the minimal

Shorty grabbed my soldiers, salute the general

We send them shots back and forth like a rocking chair

Overthrow your block and lock it just like Rasta hair

Peer -- it’s mad cake on the plate now

The streets know we ill;

any minute could be a shakedown

Tap your pants pocket, take your wallet and your girl bangles

Little goons, I wing em like Bojangles

I walk with angels and a halo, my jewels glisten

CNN reporting the war, listen