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"It's A Beautiful Thing" lyrics by LA COKA NOSTRA
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"It's A Beautiful Thing"

[Verse 1 - Everlast:]
I deal out physical justice and actual facts
I keep my steelo hidden like a junkie's tracks
But if I roll up my sleeves, you wouldn't believe
The depth of the deviance that I can conceive
I overachieve, I'm underrated, I've got you under pressure
I'm over medicated
The biters wanna bite it, the haters wanna hate it
Got on stage at your show and I defecated
Every rhyme I spit is the ultimate
Truth from the pulpit, let's cut the bullshit
It's fucking Coka taking over
The wrath of Jehova's like a supernova
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
I pull out my sword and I cut you down
The wrath of the Lord's what I'm bringing 'round
Pay heed, take warning when you hear the sound

I'm representin' what it mean to be true to the game
What it's like, what a hollow tip'll do to your brain
They call me Mr. White, ain't a more suitable name
La Coka Nostra, it's a beautiful thing

[Verse 2 - Ill Bill:]
My competition's presentation is so damn weak
I'm all knowing with AK's like Mozambique
So gangster when I creep up
Pull a trigger, Eagle buck, we don't give a fuck
Even Jesus is leaking blood
From a distance you might wonder what he's seizuring from
But on closer inspection you see it's the heat from the gun
That's making his body rise, homicide, I'm a ride
Like the Cyclone at Coney Island when it's drama time
Ill Bill, I'm a product of the projects, my conduct: Complex
I like hot sluts that suck my dick
I'm multi-faceted, a real deep individual
Limited to new pussy, new cars and new pistols too
This is who I am, you wonder how I kill a man
Millions of fans relate to La Coka Nostra
We stand for honour amongst hustlers, pimps, and thieves
A federation of terror in at war with the beast

I represent what it means to be true to the game
(I wish light woulda holla to do to your brain?)
It's Billy Crystal, ain't a more suitable name
La Coka Nostra, it's a beautiful thing

[Verse 3 - Slaine:]
They call me fucking Charlie Hustle with his knuckles, now they
Puffin' Marley with a muffled mumble sayin' nothin' hardly
Truck Denali, er'body hottie, snotty-nosed hoes
Totally out of her skull
Soles on my Timbos, powder white, outta sight
Knuckle brashed as a baby
I don't even gotta fight
My teams high, we blast for funds
The whole world revolves around cash and guns
DMS villains, the coke and the 'dro smoker
And poke holes in your hoe's chocha
From the brokenest cold sofa
To boastin', with dough and MO's and old chauffeurs
You should know already now cause I told most of ya's
We bullshit with Bolsheviks, ginnies and micks, kykes, gooks, spooks, and spics
It's a cold world with ruthlessness
So let the lies lay six deep, the truth is this

I represent what it means to be true to the game
(I wish light woulda holla to do to your brain?)
They call me Slaine, ain't a more suitable name
La Coka Nostra, it's a beautiful thing

[Thanks to Annie for correcting these lyrics]

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