Know Da Name

[Chorus 2X: all]

If you know the name, say it, if you feel it then display it

This is Napalm, nigga, Napalm, nigga

If the streets is watching, and they seeing what we doing

This is Napalm, nigga, Napalm, nigga

[Dom Pachino]

Yo, I don't wanna hurt nobody, but if I have to

You damn right, I'mma blast duke

And ask you, why you made me do this shit

Cuz your ignorant ass ain't no when to quit

Oh you unhappy, on some some old gangsta shit

Put out and let it spit, and, empty the clip

But umm, I don't wanna catch a body

All I came to do is party, on some lodi dodi

Lodi dodi, and spin off with a hotty

Kid, I've been here, I ain't gotta prove no point

You have no wins here, you be disappointed

Getting paper ain't paper, you got work, then work it

I'm underground but I gotta rise to the surface

I'm getting money on purpose, I start to see it

Like street money ain't worth it, cuz my freedom ain't worth it

But my seed gotta eat, and my ends gotta meet

Some how I see how it's worth it

Don't make me hurt you on no bullshit

Cuz if that's the case, you'll definetly see a full clip

[Chorus 2X]

[Chapel]

Yo, you'll never see it clear, bitch ass, you need ya glasses

You washed up, rhymes on track, it just clashes

Heading down the wrong way, follow on my pad

This is so forth, later on, your style be out scanning

Team Napalm, steady, have you ready like a firearm

Strong enough to rip through, materials of tephlon

I'm blessed on this earth, with a murderous verse

Turn a scene all trash when my words disperse

It's a knowledge for the self, that I'm fiending to search

Livewire be my right hand that guard the turf

Think your team look funny like the burners burst

We can do it all day all verse for verse

And my universal travel down different sights of outskirts

I feel raw chills when I clips insert

Empty out real fast, son, you lay in the dirt

This is Team Napalm, competition get murked, boy

[Chorus 2X]

[Crunch Lo]

Yo, catch me, nine to five, a dime for dime

Graduated to the doves, plus I mingle with the thugs

On hot blocks, with hot boys and big gun toys

And such, mic in my hand, til it erodes and rust

Dust my shoulder off, cuz I feel like a pimp

Creeping in the dark, puffing on a big spliff

This is Crunch Lo-ology, getting money's a part of me

Never grinding hard, I mask up for robberies

Apologies to my Earth'll turn her sour

The streets got me, ma, enlightened by baby pa

Ghetto Superstar, like I'm Pras and Ol' Dirt

Bitch ass niggas get hit by their skirt

Feel my hurt and my pain, on paper I let it rain

Blazing off the heat like I playing Max Payne

Credit my grain, for making me real rounded

Strong as an ox, plus I'm equal well grounded

[Chorus 2X]