| Song | Pretty Little Whores |
| Artist | Jedi Mind Tricks |
| Album | Greatest Features |
| 作曲 : Albaladejo, Collazo, Luviner ... | |
| Vinnie Paz | |
| I'm like Jesus to you | |
| Rapping to me is like breathing to you | |
| In second nature but someone had to teach it to you | |
| The flow is hard like a Roman statue | |
| I'm in the zone like Tony Rome holdin' chrome go in the back you, | |
| You're goin' one on one with Vinnie Paz | |
| A chubby ghini with a mini mag gimme' henny slimmy bag | |
| And that's why AOTP is tied sick | |
| Cuz ya'll, ya'll all overrated like Mike Vick | |
| An ice pick through you're fuckin' frontal lobe | |
| Jedi Mind and Outerspace about to run the globe | |
| So you should be prepared cause' it's apocalyptic | |
| I'll be the first one on the battlefield to cock a biscuit | |
| You in on the statistic, just a mother-fuckin crab-rapper | |
| Lyin' on the floor, why did I get stabbed, rapper? | |
| And ya'll are old enough to see Pingeon | |
| It's Vinnie Pazienza with my mother fuckin cousin DTOP | |
| (Chorus) | |
| We don't aim to please; we in the squeeze just to break your knees | |
| Leave you cryin' like a bitch if you don't take it ease | |
| Leave you dyin' like the snitch just to quick the ease | |
| (All the pretty little whores) | |
| ( x2 ) | |
| I'd expect numerous nights, movin the mics, adrenaline rush | |
| Move to the left, move to the right | |
| Saw my ( ?? ) backstage and started losin' my sight | |
| So don't run me up with no dumb shit | |
| The fuel ignites, venomous spray, Sixteens headin' your way | |
| And if I want you dead in June you surrender in May | |
| Black guys and black moons when we enter the stage | |
| These feral bones break forever and forever decay | |
| The catacomb could pretend that this couldn't weather the storm | |
| I'm in the zone, tough as leather where content is the swarm | |
| If it's my home, it's whatever let the weapons be drawn | |
| I let your dome be the center of a traitorous poan | |
| Ya'll ain't close to clever so watch your words | |
| Or ya'll goin' to be exposed forever as a knocked-out herb | |
| Ya'll fake pussy pomes, ya'll got a lot of nerves | |
| Open your mouths once again, you're gonna eat the curb | |
| Fuck it | |
| (Chorus) | |
| We don't aim to please, we in the squeeze just to break your knees | |
| Leave you cryin' like a bitch if you don't take it ease | |
| Leave you dyin' like the snitch just to quick the ease | |
| (All the pretty little whores) | |
| ( x2 ) | |
| Outerspace | |
| Ya'll are like bitches, I talk vicious | |
| Your walk switches and everything you spit is foul | |
| My shit's ridiculous nigga | |
| Every word disturbed from the hood to the 'burbs | |
| All my thoughts absurd | |
| That's why we chalk up herbs | |
| Every syllable makin' them pull their skirt up | |
| Rhymes is like rims I poke 'em out into the curb up | |
| Son, you better roll when I'm rappin' | |
| Every ( ?? ) of straight bullet you bitches are straight tap dancin' | |
| We get it crackin' like coke back in the '70s | |
| It's 2005 nigga, crack open the hennas now | |
| We allowed to say and do whatever | |
| So whenever you want it bring it nigga, we do it better | |
| And the reason that I know you a prostitute | |
| You snitched, sold your soul and it wasn't for a lot of loot | |
| I gotta boot and it fit in your ass | |
| Truly you're as planetary, put your flags at half-mass | |
| (Chorus) | |
| We don't aim to please, we in the squeeze just to break your knees | |
| Leave you cryin' like a bitch if you don't take it ease | |
| Leave you dyin' like the snitch just to quick the ease | |
| (All the pretty little whores) | |
| ( x2 ) |
| zuò qǔ : Albaladejo, Collazo, Luviner ... | |
| Vinnie Paz | |
| I' m like Jesus to you | |
| Rapping to me is like breathing to you | |
| In second nature but someone had to teach it to you | |
| The flow is hard like a Roman statue | |
| I' m in the zone like Tony Rome holdin' chrome go in the back you, | |
| You' re goin' one on one with Vinnie Paz | |
| A chubby ghini with a mini mag gimme' henny slimmy bag | |
| And that' s why AOTP is tied sick | |
| Cuz ya' ll, ya' ll all overrated like Mike Vick | |
| An ice pick through you' re fuckin' frontal lobe | |
| Jedi Mind and Outerspace about to run the globe | |
| So you should be prepared cause' it' s apocalyptic | |
| I' ll be the first one on the battlefield to cock a biscuit | |
| You in on the statistic, just a motherfuckin crabrapper | |
| Lyin' on the floor, why did I get stabbed, rapper? | |
| And ya' ll are old enough to see Pingeon | |
| It' s Vinnie Pazienza with my mother fuckin cousin DTOP | |
| Chorus | |
| We don' t aim to please we in the squeeze just to break your knees | |
| Leave you cryin' like a bitch if you don' t take it ease | |
| Leave you dyin' like the snitch just to quick the ease | |
| All the pretty little whores | |
| x2 | |
| I' d expect numerous nights, movin the mics, adrenaline rush | |
| Move to the left, move to the right | |
| Saw my nbsp?? backstage and started losin' my sight | |
| So don' t run me up with no dumb shit | |
| The fuel ignites, venomous spray, Sixteens headin' your way | |
| And if I want you dead in June you surrender in May | |
| Black guys and black moons when we enter the stage | |
| These feral bones break forever and forever decay | |
| The catacomb could pretend that this couldn' t weather the storm | |
| I' m in the zone, tough as leather where content is the swarm | |
| If it' s my home, it' s whatever let the weapons be drawn | |
| I let your dome be the center of a traitorous poan | |
| Ya' ll ain' t close to clever so watch your words | |
| Or ya' ll goin' to be exposed forever as a knockedout herb | |
| Ya' ll fake pussy pomes, ya' ll got a lot of nerves | |
| Open your mouths once again, you' re gonna eat the curb | |
| Fuck it | |
| Chorus | |
| We don' t aim to please, we in the squeeze just to break your knees | |
| Leave you cryin' like a bitch if you don' t take it ease | |
| Leave you dyin' like the snitch just to quick the ease | |
| All the pretty little whores | |
| x2 | |
| Outerspace | |
| Ya' ll are like bitches, I talk vicious | |
| Your walk switches and everything you spit is foul | |
| My shit' s ridiculous nigga | |
| Every word disturbed from the hood to the ' burbs | |
| All my thoughts absurd | |
| That' s why we chalk up herbs | |
| Every syllable makin' them pull their skirt up | |
| Rhymes is like rims I poke ' em out into the curb up | |
| Son, you better roll when I' m rappin' | |
| Every nbsp?? of straight bullet you bitches are straight tap dancin' | |
| We get it crackin' like coke back in the ' 70s | |
| It' s 2005 nigga, crack open the hennas now | |
| We allowed to say and do whatever | |
| So whenever you want it bring it nigga, we do it better | |
| And the reason that I know you a prostitute | |
| You snitched, sold your soul and it wasn' t for a lot of loot | |
| I gotta boot and it fit in your ass | |
| Truly you' re as planetary, put your flags at halfmass | |
| Chorus | |
| We don' t aim to please, we in the squeeze just to break your knees | |
| Leave you cryin' like a bitch if you don' t take it ease | |
| Leave you dyin' like the snitch just to quick the ease | |
| All the pretty little whores | |
| x2 |