Текст песни Army of the Pharaohs - Feast Of The Wolves

The Torture Papers
Жанр: Hip-Hop / Hardcore Rap / Underground Rap
Исполнитель: Army of the Pharaohs
Альбом: The Torture Papers
Длительность: 03:44
Рейтинг: 496
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: SmokeDogg


[Vinnie Paz] Yeah...hahaha.... Vinnie P! Celph Titled, Apathy Yeah, walk with me! It's the return of the most fucking grimy on Earth It's a funeral in every single line of my verse Your mind'll just burst, with every line of Solomon's curse Fuck a hummer, Vinnie Pazienza driving a hearse It climb to reverse, like the lyrics on a dirty record I carry thirty weapons, burn you with my .30 Desert Should learn to accept it, it's a path of destruction I earn my wage with a 30 H you pass, we'll be buckin' It's no fucking discussion, I'm as hard as granite I hope my vocal will choke you and then orbit the planet And then cross the Atlantic, Pharaohs is causing a panic Arms will be brawling with planet, saw us and called the mechanics My baby girl is a .40 cal (.40 cal) I used to tell my older brother, "Little shorty, wow" (Shorty wow) But that was then daddy this is now You can suck my dick you little fucking bitch, your block about to bow [Hook: Celph Titled] You better make way, the motherfucking wolves are back We back at it like a bad habit, no, we ain't having it (Tell'em!) You heard we came down (Smack 'em!) if they make a sound (NO!) We ain't backing down (NO!) we ain't repping them Get 'em? We got 'em (Pick 'em up, pick 'em up!) - - ] Onyx Shoot 'em? We shot 'em (Understand what I'm saying?) - -] Ghostface Killah Get 'em? We got 'em (Pick 'em up, pick 'em up!) - - ] Onyx Shoot 'em? We shot 'em (Understand what I'm saying?) - - ] Ghostface Killah [Apathy] Fuck around with the Army and get a split wig Like Santa Claus, bringing gifts to a crips' crib Cause you're the type that a phony when you try to fight Hide behind a bouncer and your homies when wild'n right Nowadays, faggot nerd poets be trying to write On the mic, looking like a Napoleon Dynamite The foamiest fall, like foliage when they brawl Tongue spit black magic, unholiest of all Like the planets revolve around suns and space I got plans that involve large guns and waste I got flows that evolve beyond the human race Try to spit 'em in your lips or off your tongue and your face I'm toxic waste, I'm top-secret box lock the safe I'm blocks with shot cops only dropped in lakes I'm crack-rock and base with a cosmic taste To put the fiends into space where the rockets race [Hook] [Celph Titled] Yo, is there heaven for a gangster? No, but there's hell for a faggot Put on my work outfit, with a belt for my ratchet You gonna melt when the gats spit, shoot your mother at your funeral She fell in the casket, how convenient is that shit? Shoot a flare at my troops, and we letting the gats flame 'em Put stairs in the booth, and we stepping our rap game up I'm a boss, but I take orders, from gun exporters Plus I got a keen sense for sniffing out tape recorders You a snitch? We'll rape your daughter And bring her down to the basement to tape record her Get your best entertainment lawyer, cause we about to extort ya Fake thug, Tom Sawyer, yeah I saw ya, we'll saw ya With the Black and Decker, slice savagely I don't gotta use God's name in vain to get my soldiers to blasphemy And I won't say I'm the best since Rakim and Pac and them Better yet, I'm the best since Mozart & Bach and them [Hook]
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