Lyrics Terrorstorm - Army of the Pharaohs, Vinnie Paz, Celph Titled

Terrorstorm

Block Mc\nCloud]\nIf anybody got a problem with me we just fight\nStep up to the Gods and you’ll see we just fight\nI suggest you best to take it easy\nThis is AOTP and we’ll make you believe we just fight\nIf anybody got a problem with me we just fight\nStep up to the God degree and we will fight\nI suggest you check our reputation\nThis is dedication or the devils may come and we will fight\nListen I could never take an L Same energy that created Heaven, created Hell\nKeep your motherfucking mouth shut and just wait for bail that’s the first law\nof the street, you never snake and tell\nBig guns, big beards, bunch of Chewbaccas Walk up in the Tourneau and cop a few\nwatches so much dro in high school I needed two lockers my Enemy Mine,\nmy enemy Lou Gossett’s\nI ain’t trying to listen to y’all, cause you garbage Viktor Vasnetsov,\nhigher when he flew carpets everybody make money, only few profit still the\nsame Vinnie, I just got a new logic\nI ain’t here to cut the cake (stupvoodoo fuck you think the knife is for?\nCriminal psychologist; ain’t never seen my type before Celph Titled:\nmother-fucking manager of manslaughter I’m a mobster, shoot you if you move\nyour hands awkward if I’m running it’s from the police if I’m gunning it’s at\nyour dome piece extended barrel that’s four feet the steel mag will fold ya\n(fo'sho) i think of Steel Magnolias when I see your soldiers (that's them?\n) So come to the fork in the road and get a fork in your throat no father to my\nstyle, I am the orphan of flows yes bitch you can get on my guest list just\nknow I keep a biscuit in a bag like a Mc\nDonald’s breakfast\nYou ain’t truly hard, I pull your car up the boulevard\nRob you for your jewelry in front of your groupie squad\nCause I’m a full retard\nI slap you silly, tap the jelly out your capillary\nMight murk you like Makaveli\nThe armor’s on at your worst you’re an accomplice\nA sidekick, you ride dicks, you’re like an armrest\nYou’ll get elbowed, kick your shit in with my Shell Toes\nShut the fuck up, yeah I’m stuck up like Velcro\nYou want a free hook?\nHell no\nYou’re a pussy cat, I got a douche for that\nPeel your wig off and push it back\nYour god flesh will hang off your skeleton when the missiles rang\nLet’s make an official gang, let the pistols bang (Never take your eyes off your\nopponent)\nCause if you do you are obsolete The.\n9 you see will make niggas jump like Dominique you need to stop rapping when\nI’m tryna sleep never trust a fat dude who say he just tryna eat and that kind\nis me, I smoke that kind of weed you see a ((?)) star under the ganja leaf the\nflow sweeter than grape jam but still I smack you in your motherfucking head\nlike Captain Caveman And the church say «Amen» I don’t know you niggas, your name to me is «Hey, man…»\nThe righteous at war with Shaytan So in one hand is my son the other 28 grams\nI spit acid like the flower on the Joker’s lapel\nI Stand Alone, Complex like the Ghost in the shell you suffer from a concussion\nlike players post NFL so guard your grill, no trigger tracks take bigger steps\nI straight body tracks like a stick figure sketch\nFuck you similes and metaphors, I’m just tryna settle war\nI can only self destruct, I am like the predator personal vendettas now,\nI am out to settle scores you don’t wanna get involved, you can’t walk,\nrun or crawl it don’t rain it heavy pour, soon as the Henny pour\nI don’t need grimy bitches, hoodrats or Fendi whores Nope.\nI had to step back but I remain sharp though how you gonna build walls around\nKing Marco love this rap shit fully but it pays partial got tunnel vision for\nthe money so it strains carpals I’m Ray Dawson with the hawk, let the spray\nspark you When these sharks taste blood we never lay off you\nOne inch punch, hits hard as shotgun pumps knock kids out they Reebok Pumps\nfucking punks walk the plank, kerplunk suckers sunk get slumped like drunk\ndriving and crashing in tree trunks Backstage, rap groupie sluts scheming on\nblunts Bunch of bum ass bitches in some beat up dunks roll that weed up cunt,\ntell her we’ll meet up front She kinda frumpy but she still could get her D\ncups humped every beat that we bump, means somebody got jumped beaten up tied\nhis hands to his feet to bleed in the trunk I don’t understand the reason kids\nare feeling these chumps I’m kinda stumped…\nuh duuhhhh, I can’t even front I lose a brain cell every time the 808 thump\nThat shit stunk, shrunk heads like a voodoo monk a wild monkey in a cage\nthrowing doodoo chunks I lunge straight for the throat, blood and guts for\nlunch